Behind The Mask
by Bill K
Summary: Usagi's father loses his job. Akiko has loose lips, to Makoto's consternation. Junko has a boyfriend and Haruka doesn't like him.
1. Family Relations

BEHIND THE MASK

Chapter 1: "Family Relations"

A Sailor Moon fanfic

By Bill K.

* * *

Sailor Moon and all related characters are (c)2009 by Naoko Takeuchi/Kodansha and Toei Animation and are used without permission, but with respect. Story is (c)2009 by Bill K.

* * *

Ikuko Tsukino heard the front door open and glanced at the clock. It was late for her husband to be coming home, but he was home. No doubt another crisis at the magazine had held him over. That was her hope, anyway. Mildly concerned, she ventured out into the front hall and spotted an unexpected figure standing by the door.

"Usagi?" Ikuko responded curiously. "Well this is a surprise."

"Hi, Mom," the woman signed. Even though she was twenty-seven, there was still something about her manner that always seemed to be stuck in her teen years and it gave Ikuko a familiar sense. Usagi had her portfolio under her arm and a scowl on her usually buoyant face.

"What's the matter, honey?" Ikuko asked. Then she grew a wry smile. "Forget you don't live here anymore?"

Usagi responded with a narrow-eyed glare and it brought back more memories. "I just wanted to visit. Mamo-Chan is still at that symposi-what do you call it, and the new apartment is so lonely without him. And Luna will just nag me about my deadlines. Besides, it's been a while since I saw you and Daddy."

"And this way you don't have to cook," Ikuko smirked.

"I can always leave if it's that much trouble!" Usagi groused.

"No trouble. You're always welcome," Ikuko beamed, hugging her daughter. The two walked into the kitchen where Ikuko was preparing the evening meal. "I haven't seen you and the senshi in the news recently. Have things been quiet?"

"Thankfully," sighed Usagi. "Nothing's happened in over a year - - not since that whole vigilante thing."

"Are you still visiting that girl?"

"About once a month. I think I'm really making progress, too. Hana is a really bright girl and once she saw how pointless what she was doing was, she's really come around. I think by the time she gets out of juvenile detention, she can lead a happy, productive life. She said she might like to go into martial arts instructing."

"What about the Yakuza?" her mother asked.

"Well," Usagi swallowed, "Superintendent Sakurada arranged a meeting between me and some of the heads of the organization Hana was striking against. And I explained to them that Hana was trying to change her life and getting away from her vigilante ways, and that she was a changed person. And that everyone really needed to help her make this change in her life."

"And?"

"And then," Usagi grimaced, "Superintendent Sakurada told them that reprisals against her would be dealt with swiftly and harshly, not only by the police, but by the senshi as well. I didn't really like her doing that, but it seemed to convince them to leave Hana alone." And she gave her mother a hopeful look. "I really think I can help Hana. I really feel like I've accomplished something." Her spirits fell. "Certainly more than I have as an artist."

"Didn't the publisher like your new story? What was it, Fire . . .?"

"Fire Princess Rika," Usagi said, crestfallen. "No. I should have known."

"What was his reason for rejecting it?" Ikuko asked.

"He said sales were flat right now and they couldn't afford too many new characters," Usagi sighed. "But I know it was because it wasn't good enough." Her mother could see Usagi was fighting back tears. "I put so much effort into that. I thought it was perfect. I should have known I couldn't write something anyone could be interested in."

"Well, if he didn't like it, then you just try another publisher," Ikuko told her. "These are tough times in the publishing industry. Your father has been saying for months that his publisher has been trying to cut costs. They've already cut the page count of the magazine once. Maybe it is just the timing and not the story. Try another publisher. You might have better results. Just don't give up."

Usagi grinned shyly. "Seems you've been telling me that all my life - - screaming it, sometimes."

"I only say it because it's true, Usagi," Ikuko smiled. "And I only scream it when you're too busy being lazy to listen." They both heard the door. "That must be your father."

Quickly Usagi hurried into the hall. Kenji Tsukino turned and she could see he was deeply troubled by something. But when he spotted her, he lit up with joy.

"Princess!" Kenji exclaimed, extending his arms. Usagi took the invitation and jumped in, squeezing tight to him as his arms folded around her. "This is a pleasant surprise! Smelled your mom's cooking and couldn't resist, could you?"

"Well, you know me and Mom's cooking," Usagi grinned. "Actually, Mamo-Chan's away and I was lonely, so I thought I'd visit my other favorite man in the universe." Usagi eased her father's jacket off of him and hung it up. But when she turned around, Usagi noticed the odd expression back on her father's face. "Daddy? Is something wrong?"

"Come on," Kenji said, forcing a smile onto his face. "Dinner's probably ready and you know how your mother hates to be kept waiting."

Kenji ushered his daughter into the dining area and the three sat down to Ikuko's meal. Usagi ate voraciously, in spite of her low spirits, and was half-way through when she spotted her mother staring at her father with concern. That stopped her in her tracks.

"Kenji?" Ikuko asked, her brow knit with a sense of unrest. "Did something happen at the office today? You seem preoccupied."

Kenji looked down.

"Kenji?"

He exhaled a sigh. "I didn't want to spoil dinner with this," the middle-aged man began hoarsely, adjusting his black horn-rim glasses. "There's really no good time to tell you, I suppose."

"Tell me what?" Ikuko asked, her anxiety rising. Usagi was glued to them both, her own solicitude engulfing her.

"The word came down from the publisher today," Kenji explained, avoiding eye contact. "The issue going to press - - is the last one. They're folding the magazine - - folding the entire publishing line. They said they couldn't find a buyer and they couldn't continue." He took a moment to gather his strength. "The editors had to pass out notices to the entire staff. And then we all got our own." Kenji looked up at his wife of twenty-eight years and she could see quiet desperation in his eyes. "I don't have a job anymore."

* * *

It was late, later than Makoto liked being out shopping. But Akiko's time at the dentist's office took longer than anticipated and now she was running late. The woman glanced at the clock over the meat counter and saw it was six already.

"I hope San-San understands," she sighed.

One hand wheeled Ichiro's stroller over toward the meat counter. The boy was getting too big for the stroller, but Makoto still wasn't confident enough in his ability to walk to let him get around on his own yet. As she guided the stroller, Makoto gently pulled on the leash attached to Akiko's body harness, easing the girl in her direction and away from the sugar cereal aisle. After a couple of futile attempts to break free of the tether, Akiko capitulated and followed them over. Arriving at the meat counter, Akiko jumped up, caught the top of the meat display and pulled herself up high enough to see which cut of meat her mother was selecting.

"Energetic child, isn't she?" smiled the clerk behind the counter, a pleasant woman of forty-five. Several other people milled about near the display.

"You don't know the half of it," grinned Makoto ruefully. "After I'm done here, I'm going to the fruit department and get this little monkey some bananas."

"Aren't we having salmon tonight?" Akiko asked.

"We can't have salmon every night, hon'," Makoto told her.

"Well, aren't you a cute little girl," the clerk said.

"I'm Akiko! I'm almost four!" Akiko chirped while she hung on the side of the meat case.

"Practically an adult," the clerk responded. "You like salmon, do you?"

"Yes! Mommy makes a great grilled salmon! She's a very good cook!"

The clerk glanced at Makoto and Makoto shrugged modestly.

"And she can beat Daddy at basketball, too!" Akiko continued.

"He doesn't have a very good jump shot," Makoto added, to the clerk's amusement.

"Plus she's Sailor Jup'ter!" Akiko continued. Makoto felt the blood drain from her face. Several other shoppers turned to them.

"My, such an imagination," the clerk chuckled.

"Yeah," Makoto choked out. She selected a piece of meat and moved on. Akiko waved to the clerk and the clerk waved back. But Makoto quickly turned up an aisle and, seeing it was empty, knelt down and seized her daughter around the arms.

"Akiko!" Makoto hissed urgently, getting her girl's attention instantly. "You can't tell people that I'm Sailor Jupiter!"

"But why?" Akiko asked. She sensed her mother's anxiety and that this was an urgent situation, but she was too young to grasp what made it urgent.

"Because," Makoto struggled to know what to say, how to make her understand, "it's a secret, Akiko. If somebody tells you a secret, they're trusting you not to tell it to other people. And if you do, you're not being very nice to the person who trusted you. And you might end up putting them in a bad spot. Now only you and I and your daddy know Mommy is Sailor Jupiter, and we're trusting you to keep that secret."

"I'm sorry, Mommy," Akiko sniffed, tears bubbling in her eyes. And Makoto wanted to believe her. But she knew that Akiko knew that 'I'm sorry' was a magic phrase that often got a person out of trouble and Makoto couldn't tell if Akiko thought this was one of those times or not.

"OK, honey," Makoto replied, hugging her daughter to try to ease her anxiety. Then she heard Ichiro becoming restless in his stroller. It had been a long day for both of her children and she couldn't take anymore time with this incident. She could only hope that she'd gotten through.

* * *

A blue, prototype Fiat sports car sped expertly through residential traffic as the last rays of the late September day began to die behind the horizon. Guiding the car was Haruka Tenoh, heading for the home of her estranged parents. In the seat next to her was her sister, Junko. Haruka wore beige slacks and a knit pullover top. Her leather racing jacket was in the back seat. Junko was dressed familiarly, in baggy blue jeans and a printed t-shirt sporting the logo of her favorite rock band, Slashwave.

"Thanks for taking me car shopping, Haruka," Junko said.

"See anything you like?" Haruka asked.

"All of them," Junko sighed. "I just want something that runs - - something that can get me from place to place. I'm sick of the trains, you know."

"Dad's going to spring for a car for you?" Haruka inquired.

"That's my next job," Junko admitted.

"Well, good luck. Be ready for the 'planning for the future is more important than the whims of the present' speech."

"What makes you think I already haven't heard it?" Junko scowled. "Damn it, I'm seventeen! I should have a car!"

"I had a car when I was seventeen," Haruka replied. "I found an old junker and rebuilt her myself."

"Show me how and I'll do it!" gasped the teen. Haruka smothered a grin.

"I've been thinking of trading this thing in, too," Haruka admitted. "After all, it's three years old."

"You could give it to me," Junko perked up hopefully.

"Why would I do that to the world?" Haruka jabbed.

"HEY, I'M A GOOD DRIVER!"

"How would you know? You haven't had a car since you got your license," countered Haruka.

"Well, give me this one and I'll show you," Junko proposed.

"Nice try, con artist," Haruka replied cynically. Junko flashed her a knowing smirk. "You could always get a job and buy your own car."

"Now you sound like Dad," Junko said, eyebrow raised.

"Knew I got it from somewhere," Haruka quipped.

The Fiat eased to a stop next to two parked cars in front of the Tenoh house. As Junko was getting out, Haruka noticed a teenage boy lingering outside the Tenoh house. He was tall, with black hair and a wiry frame that was filling out, wearing normal clothes for the youth of today. His hair was thick and dangled into his eyes, which seemed brooding and intense. To Haruka, the boy seemed anxious about something. As Junko emerged from the car, the youth spotted her and began to approach. Suspicious as always, Haruka quickly emerged from the driver's side, ready for trouble.

"Aki!" Junko exclaimed when she saw him and ran to him. The girl flung her arms around him and they kissed openly and intimately.

"Well, this is new," Haruka thought, watching the tableau. Clearly Junko was very enamored of the brooding young man, but when they parted, Haruka could see different emotions on his face.

"What are you doing here?" Junko asked happily.

"I got tickets for the Gold Rush Down concert tonight. I was hoping you'd go with me. Your mom said you were out, so I waited," he explained. Then he glanced at Haruka and his expression turned instantly from hopeful to suspicious - - almost threatened. "Who's this?"

Junko looked and saw he meant Haruka. "That's Haruka. We were out car shopping."

Haruka noticed that the boy wasn't placated by the explanation. The hairs on the back of her neck began to rise.

Junko sighed. "Haruka, this is Akinori Masumoto. We're kind of - - dating. Aki, this is my sister, Haruka."

"Sister?" the boy repeated with genuine surprise. "That's a girl?"

"Don't let the 'butch' look fool you," chuckled Junko. "She's all girl inside - - in spite of what she wants everybody to think," she taunted.

"Don't spread it around," Haruka quipped while maintaining her wary attitude. "Folks on the track will start thinking they can beat me again."

"Track?" Aki repeated. Then recognition came to him. "Y-You're Haruka Tenoh? The female race car driver?" And suddenly the boy's entire demeanor changed. He instantly was thrilled and solicitous. Haruka noticed it immediately.

She just couldn't decide whether he was impressed by meeting someone famous or relieved that Haruka wasn't a man.

"I'm," Aki sputtered, "very sorry I mistook you for a man just now. Please don't be offended."

"Happens to me a lot," Haruka shrugged. "But I don't think you came here to see me, right?"

"Oh, yeah!" Aki nodded and turned back to Junko. "So how about it? Will you go? You'll really like this band."

"I'd love to go, Aki," Junko sighed. "But there's no way my parents would let me. I've got homework to do and they'll really insist I get it done."

"You can do it tomorrow, can't you?" Aki persisted.

"You know my parents - - no fun until you do your work," Junko explained. "And I've already been out later with Haruka than I should have been. No way they'll agree."

"Well, can't you just go? I really want you to be there," Aki persisted.

"Another time," Junko said and kissed him on the cheek. She started for the house, but Aki grabbed her hand and held her back.

"Please?" he asked plaintively. Junko wavered and, for a moment, Haruka thought she was going to give in. She glanced momentarily at Haruka.

"I can't," Junko sighed. "Tell me all about it tomorrow. We'll go 'malling'."

Junko attempted to reclaim her hand and Aki released it - - reluctantly. He watched her go until she disappeared into her house. Turning, his disappointment like a cloak around him, the boy started to leave. Then he remembered Haruka was still there.

"It was very nice meeting you, um . . ." he began, unsure whether to address her in a masculine or feminine form.

"Haruka's fine," Haruka murmured.

"OK. Good luck with your racing," he said, then bowed and left. Haruka stared after him.

Entering the home she shared with the love of her life, Haruka wandered into the kitchen. There Michiru was cooking the evening meal.

"You're late," Michiru said with a cocked eyebrow.

"Sorry. I was out with a girl," Haruka replied, grabbing Michiru around the waist and kissing her neck.

"Junko?"

"You ask that like you aren't sure," Haruka glanced back at her.

"With you, I never am," Michiru replied with a smirk.

"We were out car shopping."

"For you or for her?" Michiru asked.

"A little of both," Haruka shrugged. Michiru emitted a disdainful sigh. "Got a surprise, too. Junko's got a boyfriend."

"Oh? Well, she's certainly attractive enough. Did you meet him?"

"Yeah," Haruka tossed out indifferently.

"And?" prodded Michiru.

Haruka sighed. "I don't know. I don't know if I'm just being possessive or if it's him." She turned earnestly to Michiru. "But I don't like him."

Continued in Chapter 2


	2. Transitions

BEHIND THE MASK

Chapter 2: "Transitions"

A Sailor Moon fanfic

By Bill K.

The cheers echoing through the auditorium could still be heard down the hall from the stage. Minako Aino took a towel offered her by one of the back stage crew and gave her a grateful nod. Several more members of the crew murmured words of praise as they moved to strike the set and pack it for the next date. Minako's road manager and make-up artist escorted her partially to her dressing room, telling her how well the show had gone. She didn't have to hear it from them, though. The cheers still echoing down the hall were enough.

Minako had done a full set and two encores. Physically, she was spent. But it was a good feeling. She felt like she'd given her all to entertain the people who had paid to see her. They, in turn, had showered her with such adoration that she was only now coming down from the 'high'. This is what it was all about. This made the years of dreaming, of practice, of lessons, of singing in Yakuza dives, of posing for cheesecake pictures, of smiling and posing in front of merchandise until her jaw hurt and her back was stiff, of taking any role offered no matter how humiliating it might seem, this made it all worth it. If she could do this for the next thousand years, she would be happy.

"Yeah, like you're going to live to be a thousand," Minako chuckled to herself.

A man in the phalanx of people caught her eye suddenly and Minako turned to get a closer look. His back was to her now, but Minako could see him clearly for a few seconds. The shoulder-length blond hair, the tall sturdy frame that radiated masculinity - - was it him?

"Couldn't be," Minako thought, turning back as he disappeared into the crowd. "Aw, who are you kidding? Of course it could be him. It's just the kind of stunt he'd pull." As she reached her dressing room door, Minako grew resolute. "Well, he's not going to ruin things. I'm happy. I've got everything I could want. And it doesn't include him."

Inside her dressing room, Minako sat down at her makeup table and pulled out a cosmetic pad and a cell phone. Pressing out a number with one hand while she dabbed makeup away from her face with the other, Minako brought the phone to her ear. After three rings, she got the answering machine.

"Toshi?" Minako inquired hopefully. "Toshi, it's Minako. Pick up, huh?" Nothing. "Artemis, you there?"

Just as she was about to give up, the phone connected.

"Minako, how you doing?" she heard Artemis inquire. "What city are you in tonight?"

"Sapporo," Minako smiled. "Artemis, I killed here! I've been killing the whole tour!"

"Well, given your album sales and the popularity of the show, are you surprised?

"Well, if I say 'no', you'll accuse me of being an egomaniac," Minako retorted. "And if I say 'yes', you'll know I'm lying." That drew a chuckle from the white cat and made Minako even happier. "Is Toshi out?"

"Yes. He's got a meeting with the sponsor and the production staff. They're trying to get geared up for the new season. He's been working like a dog - - pardon the expression - - the whole time you've been gone."

"Figures he wouldn't say anything," Minako mused quietly. "Is the gang OK?"

"Well, Usagi's fretting about her father being out of work," Artemis related. "It's been a month now and he still hasn't found anything. Luna says she feels sorry for her and at the same time Usagi's driving her up a wall. Otherwise, everything's normal - - which is a good thing."

"Got that right," Minako replied. "Well - - tell Toshi that I love him and I miss him."

"What about me?" Artemis asked.

"I've got my fuzzy slippers," Minako replied with a devilish lilt to her voice. "I don't need you."

"Yeah?" Artemis retorted. "Well, I love your CD. They make great coasters."

"Bye, Fuzzy," Minako grinned. "Call you when I get in to Hokkaido tomorrow." The woman folded her cell phone and put it away. Then she looked at her reflection in the mirror. Maybe her life wasn't quite perfect. She still hadn't figured out how to tour and take her family and friends with her.

* * *

The blue Fiat sports car pulled into the driveway, a remarkable car in an otherwise unremarkable neighborhood in residential Tokyo. From inside the car, the driver signaled the garage door to open and expertly pulled inside, closing the door once inside. Only then did the driver emerge.

Despite her fatigue, Haruka looked around the garage to make sure there wasn't anything jutting out or hanging loose, something that might possibly hurt her baby. Once assured, she patted the car hood lovingly, then picked up her suitcase and headed for the house the garage was connected to. Every fiber in her body was drained by the flight to and from Sao Paolo, Brazil, and the Grande Premio do Brasil, and by the fact that she'd finished seventh. It didn't help that the seventh place finish had cost her just enough points to keep her from defending her 2006 Formula 1 points championship.

After winning the Fuji Television Grand Prix just last month, everyone thought she had the points standings sewn up. But a poor finish due to engine trouble in Shanghai had brought her back to the pack. Now this. All through the flight she'd dissected her race to find where she could have moved differently and won. By the time she'd reached Tokyo, the realization that it just wasn't to be had taken root. It was disappointing, but a second in the points standings after winning the previous year did serve to solidify her standing as one of the top Formula 1 drivers in the world, and the top female driver of all time. It was something.

"Babe," she called out breathlessly, letting the suitcase drop. She was more tired than she realized. "I'm home."

"Haruka," Michiru said softly, appearing suddenly in the kitchen. She glided over and the two women molded themselves to each other, kissing with relief of solitude's end. She pulled back and looked up at her mate sympathetically. "I'm sorry you didn't win."

"That's what can happen in a close race," Haruka shrugged. "One bad pit can really cost you." They walked arm in arm into the living room. Haruka oozed into the sofa and Michiru curled up next to her. "Anything happen while I was gone?"

Michiru paused just a beat, silently contemplating how to respond. Haruka noticed it immediately, even through her fatigue, but didn't press. Finally Michiru uncurled, reached over to a table by the sofa and picked up a letter.

"Read this," she said softly, ominously, as she handed Haruka the letter. Piqued, and just a bit wary, the racer pulled the letter out of its envelope. The return address, she noted, was Sony Media.

"Sorry if I seem dumb," Haruka began after scanning the letter, "but I think it says Sony is dropping you?"

"You're right," Michiru scowled, eyes down. "Sales are down industry-wide and a lot of companies in the music business are cutting back on their output. That means artists are being dropped." Michiru just stared for a moment. "And I'm one of the ones."

"You'll find another label," Haruka offered.

"I don't know," Michiru replied and Haruka heard the faintest waver in her voice. "I've always been a niche artist in recording. I've put out six CDs and the sales on all six together don't equal what Minako sold on her last CD alone. She's what the labels are looking for. I don't think I could interest another label even if I did sell out and go commercial - - which I'm not going to do."

"Well," Haruka began, pulling Michiru in tighter, "you could always retire and become my personal sex therapist."

Michiru scowled to keep from grinning. "As fulfilling as that might be, I don't know how much that would do to fulfill my needs as an artist."

"I don't know," Haruka continued. "I remember some times in bed when you got pretty creative."

"I can see you're going to be no help," Michiru glanced sideways.

"Look," Haruka said, pulling her tighter. "You've still got your painting and your photography. And you've got more money than you know what to do with now."

"Unless you decide to buy another car," Michiru interjected wryly.

"Book a few concert dates if you feel like it. You've still got fans. Press your own CDs and sell them at the concert. Or give 'em away if you want. Otherwise, you can play for me if you don't want to perform on stage. It's not the end of the world."

"No, it's not," Michiru said, her head pressed against Haruka's breast. "It's just wounded pride. We artists can't stand rejection, even though we court it so actively. I'll be OK." She perked up. "Hey, maybe we can tour a few cities this winter. I can write a few new pieces and you could accompany me on piano?"

At that moment, the phone rang, cutting off Haruka's response. She reached over and brought the receiver to her ear.

"Hello?" she asked and immediately got an angry response. It was so loud Michiru heard it. "Who is . . .Mom? What are you yelling about? What's my fault? Mom, would you get a grip! What's wrong?" As Michiru stared with concern, Haruka listened for a few moments. "Is she there now? Mom, you can't keep . . .!"

Haruka pulled away and stared angrily at the now disconnected phone. Then she hung it up and bolted from the sofa.

"Haruka, what is it?" Michiru asked, scrambling after her.

"It's Junko!" Haruka spat, grabbing her jacket. "Something's happened!"

* * *

Coral eyes floated in the darkness, the only trace of something living. The eyes levitated along a path from the Chiba living room to the kitchen. There, illumination from the open refrigerator put a body with the coral eyes. Luna came to a stop and watched the nocturnal traveler for a few moments.

"Does your stomach never rest?" Luna asked acidly. Usagi straightened up with a start and the carton of milk slipped from her fingers, splattering onto the floor.

"Luna, don't DO THAT!" Usagi hissed, glaring wide-eyed at the little black cat. It may have been the shadows on her face, but it almost looked like Luna seemed smug. "Now look what you made me do!"

"There, there, Usagi," Luna cautioned her as Usagi went for a towel. "No use crying over spilled milk."

"You think you're SO smart!" the woman grumbled, on her knees wiping up the milk.

"Well it's your own fault for being up this late," Luna countered. "Although I must say it must have certainly been quite the hunger attack to wake YOU from sleep. I've known air raids that couldn't accomplish that."

Glancing up at Usagi, illuminated by the single bulb in the refrigerator, the cat saw an expression she hadn't expected.

"Usagi?" Luna inquired.

"I couldn't sleep," Usagi whispered.

"Is something worrying you? It's not your father, is it?"

"It's been a month now, Luna, and he still can't find another job," Usagi related. "He seemed so discouraged this afternoon when I talked to him."

"A person of his experience and qualifications?"

"He says the publishing industry is contracting," Usagi explained. "There aren't as many newspapers and magazines as there used to be. And they've all got people with just as much experience and stuff as he has. He's even begun to think he'll have to start over again."

"If it comes to that, I'm certain he'll be a success," Luna offered.

"But Luna, he loves being a photographer and photo editor," Usagi argued. "If he has to start over doing something else, I don't know if he'll be happy. And if he has to start over again at the bottom as a photographer," and Usagi looked down. "Well, I don't know if his pride could stand it. Daddy's always been so proud of his life - - proud of being married to Mom, proud of me and Shingo, and proud of what he's accomplished. And to lose that and have to start over - - I just don't know how that will affect him." She was silent for a few moments. "And it would certainly be less money."

"Usagi," Luna said, speaking firmly and distinctly so as to attract and keep her friend's attention, "there are times when we must do what we must, whether they are distasteful or not, in order to survive and progress. Your father is a very sterling man with good character and a good sense of values. He will make the decision he feels is best for his family and his situation. And you must support his decision. And you must give him all the help he needs and all the support and belief he deserves. But the one thing you mustn't do is surrender to fear and worry."

"I won't," Usagi squeaked.

"Usagi, you're sitting in the middle of your kitchen floor at midnight," Luna replied. "I dare say that puts your statement into the realm of falsehood."

"Well, I guess it's easier for you," groused Usagi. She got to her feet. "I wish there was some way I could help Daddy."

"I'm certain that when the opportunity presents itself, you'll seize it," Luna told her. Usagi stuck her head back into the refrigerator. "What are you doing now?"

"Well, as long as I'm up, I might as well eat something," Usagi shrugged.

"Incorrigible," fussed Luna. Then she paused and grew an almost guilty look. "Well, as long as you're in there, bring out some of that left over chicken. No sense in you eating alone."

* * *

Haruka double-parked the Fiat and leaped out, racing up to the house where the Tenoh family lived. By the time Michiru had extricated herself from the blue sports car, Haruka had already pressed the bell and was pounding on the door. Michiru saw the door open. Haruka's mother, Himeko, met Haruka, and Michiru could see it wasn't a pleasant occurrence for either of them.

"You have some nerve coming here," Himeko growled, her tiny face pinched up.

"What happened to Junko?" Haruka demanded.

"Why? Why do you want to know? So you can get her at an emotionally vulnerable time and lure her over to your way? It's your fault this happened!"

"I don't even know what happened! How can it be my fault?" roared Haruka.

"She was living a wonderful life until YOU showed up!" Himeko spat. "Things only started to go wrong . . .!" Himeko stopped when she felt hands on her shoulders. They both looked and found Gert behind her. Gert had lost even more weight than the last time Haruka had seen him. His face, though, was still red and blustery from his Swiss-German ancestry.

"Now Mama, let's don't cause a scene for the neighbors," Gert cautioned her gently. Himeko immediately relented, but her eyes still blazed with anger. He looked at Haruka and she could tell he wasn't pleased to see her, either. "I let you into my home, Haruka, because Junko likes and respects you, and perhaps you can do something for her. Please do not abuse this invitation."

"Gert!" Himeko gasped.

"They can talk over the kitchen table, Mama," Gert told her. "It will be all right." He turned to the steps. "Junko! Haruka is here to see you!"

Haruka turned to Michiru, waiting out by the sidewalk.

"I'll park the car," she told Haruka, communicating her support, "and wait for you."

Haruka turned back and stepped inside. Junko was coming down the steps from the second floor and she was sporting a nasty bruise under her left eye. Her sister's eyes flared and Junko grew embarrassed.

"You two can talk in the kitchen," Gert advised Junko. Then he herded Himeko away. The two sisters went into the kitchen and sat down, Haruka's eyes on Junko the entire time. Junko flopped into a chair, her face turning to obscure her black eye. Haruka took a seat across from her.

"What happened to your eye?" Haruka asked bluntly.

"Mom call you?" Junko asked, her mortification a thing alive.

"Yeah. What happened to your eye?" Haruka repeated. Junko sat there for a few moments, scowling. She didn't seem to want to answer.

"I got into a fight," Junko said finally.

"Some girl jump you in the restroom at school?"

Junko looked down. "With Aki."

"Aki? Who's - - wait a minute! That boy you're going out with?"

"Yeah," Junko replied, a sour taste in her mouth. "We were arguing. He didn't like me studying with Kenichi-sempai in the library. Things got out of hand," and Junko paused to quell her own welling anger, "and he hit me."

Now Haruka took a moment to quell her rising anger.

"Did you hit him back?" Haruka asked. Junko looked up at her, surprised by the response. "You're right. It wouldn't have been civilized."

"Well, I've thought about it for the last few hours," Junko replied ruefully.

"You want me to pay him a visit?" Haruka asked. Junko looked up at her again and the surprise and horror on her face caught the woman off guard.

"No!" she exclaimed. Then Junko got rein of her reactions. "No, that's not necessary. I broke up with him. Aki's part of the past. One of those 'lessons' you learn the hard way."

Haruka emitted a sigh and leaned in. "Sorry you had to learn it that way. Life seems to wait until you least expect it and then smacks you in the mouth. This is probably one of those times. There are people out there who, well, don't mix well with other people. You can feel sorry for them, but a lot of times you're just wasting your time. You're better off without him."

"Yeah," Junko whispered.

"You going to be OK?"

"Aside from my eye?" Junko peeked up, the corners of her mouth turning up. "I suppose. We Tenohs are suppose to be able to take it. This is nothing compared to some of the stuff you've had to go through. I'll make it." She smirked wickedly. "It's not going to put me off of boys, though."

"Your loss," Haruka smirked back. "My weekends are free again. You want to do something next Sunday?"

"Sure. I suddenly have a free calendar," Junko quipped. "I'll call you."

Haruka nodded and got up to go. In the hall by the door, though, Gert met her.

"Thank you for helping her," he said uncomfortably.

"Thank you for letting me help her," Haruka replied.

"I know you, Haruka. Junko respects and admires you. Don't do something that would make her question that faith, eh?"

Haruka allowed herself a small laugh and left. Outside, she searched the street until she spotted Michiru waving from down the block.

"What happened?" Michiru asked as they got into the Fiat.

"Tell you on the way home," Haruka said. Then, impulsively, she reached over and grasped Michiru's hand. "Michiru, if I ever do anything to hurt you - - PLEASE kick my ass."

Her surprise slowly morphed into amusement. "All right," Michiru replied indulgently. And the two sped off.

Continued in Chapter 3


	3. Our Worst Fears

BEHIND THE MASK

Chapter 3: "Our Worst Fears"

A Sailor Moon fanfic

By Bill K.

"BURNING MANDALA!"

The shout echoed through the metal and glass canyons of the shopping district. Four demons, misshapen and repellent though humanoid, crouched to move, but they acted too late. The fiery sacred symbols of Sailor Mars' mandala sprang up around them and the demons found themselves trapped. They huddled against each other inside the mystic circle, cowering from the power it radiated. Sailor Mars knew, though, it was a temporary fix.

"I wish the others would get here!" Mars thought as she concentrated on her quarry. "That barrier won't last for long and I can't turn my attention away from it to work on a binding sutra."

Word had come to her at the shrine that demons were harassing the nearby retail district. Sending out a general alert, Mars raced to the scene and found four demons spreading chaos among the merchants and shoppers of the district. She attempted to use her wards on them, but the demon pack proved to be too slippery and cagey, more so than any ordinary single demon. Her plan then became containing the demons until help could arrive. Either Sailor Moon could destroy the demons while Mars held them, or the others could contain them while Mars bound them to an object.

But the longer it went, the more Mars' mandala spent itself. Emboldened, the demons began to press against the barrier. Each time they were repelled by mystic flame, but each time the burn became less severe. Mars knew her time was running out. A city bus passed behind her on the cross street. Sensing the mandala was about to dissipate, Mars did the only thing she could do.

"Mars!" she shouted. "Flame Sniper!"

The flaming bow and arrow formed in her hands even as the mandala died and the demons sprang free. Calmly she tracked one of the demons and let her arrow fly. It shot through the air and cleaved the demon, causing it to disintegrate and rain demon particles onto the gathered crowd watching the battle. The other demons turned on her and charged. Mars turned to fire at them, a new arrow forming. She knew she could get one. With luck, she could get them all. If she only got one, perhaps she could dodge the other two . . .

"Silver Moon Crystal Power Kiss!" everyone heard Sailor Moon shout. Waves of silver energy blanketed the area, bringing a sense of calm and peace to everyone - - everyone except the demons. The remaining demons froze up and recoiled in agony on contact with the silver energy. Then they shattered into a million fragments and exploded in all directions. Instantly the on-lookers broke out in thunderous applause. Mars turned and grinned at Sailor Moon, who as usual seemed embarrassed by the adulation.

"Took you long enough to get here," Mars groused playfully.

"I have to travel by bus, remember?" Sailor Moon shot back.

"Yeah, I suppose keeping YOU from being behind the wheel of a car IS doing a public service," needled Mars. She received an angry tongue in response.

"Were those demons the problem?"

"Yeah," Mars said as she and Sailor Moon moved off toward Hikawa Shrine while the police kept fans and autograph-seekers at bay. "I would have handled them myself, but there were too many of them and they were too quick - - and my flaming arrows would have been too messy."

"I know," nodded Sailor Moon. "Getting demon gunk on you is disgusting."

"Yeah, and it takes forever to get it out of your clothes," Mars agreed. Finding a spot where no one was around, the two senshi reverted to their civilian forms. "I'll call Ami and Makoto and tell them to forget about it." Her senshi communicator came out and engaged.

"Mind if I tag along to the shrine? I want to see Akira-sensei again."

"I'm sorry, Rei," they heard Ami on the senshi communicator. "I couldn't get away from the hospital in time."

"We handled it, Ami. Don't worry," Rei told her, then dialed up Makoto. "I'm glad you like Akira-san."

"What's not to like? He's smart, he's kind," Usagi replied, then leered, "and he's cute as anything!"

"Sorry, Rei," they heard Makoto say on the communicator. "I couldn't find anyone to leave the kids with."

"Not a problem, Mako-chan. You just owe me a chocolate cake!" Usagi said into Rei's communicator. They heard Makoto chuckle. Then she glanced at Rei. "You think he's cute, too, don't you?"

"Didn't what happened a few months ago teach you anything?" snorted Rei.

"That was a 'merry mix-up'!" bellowed Usagi. "I know Akira-sensei is married!"

"Then stop matchmaking, 'Little Mary Mixed-Up'," Rei demanded. Usagi's tongue presented itself again.

"Say what you want, but having Akira-sensei is good for you," maintained Usagi. "You're smiling again, Rei. You didn't smile for the longest time after - - well, after Derek."

"I guess it did take a while," Rei admitted as they climbed the steps to the shrine. "Thanks for being there for me."

"You'd do the same for me," Usagi smiled, then added quickly, "though I hope you never have to." Then she smirked and turned around as they neared the top step. "But you do think Akira-sensei is cute."

"I'd brain you if you had a brain!" Rei sneered.

"You like Akira. You like Akira," Usagi chanted as she backed up the steps. Then she stumbled on the top step and fell backwards, only to be caught before she hit the stone steps. Twisting to look up, Usagi spotted her benefactor. "Uh, heh heh, A-Akira-sensei!"

"Pardon me for interrupting a private conversation," the priest smiled, looking like a teenage girl's fantasy.

"Don't worry, Akira-San," Rei said as Akira lifted Usagi to her feet. "Just Usagi being Usagi."

* * *

Guiding the blue Fiat through residential traffic, Haruka headed for her parents' home to pick up Junko. She and her teenage sister were just going out for lunch and chat. Michiru had remarked that Junko seemed to be the only person other than herself and Haruka's fellow race car drivers who seemed able to draw out the normally distant woman enough to "chat". Haruka had taken it as good-natured teasing, something she allowed Michiru in return for the ability to do it herself. But her mate was right. Junko did put her at ease. They did communicate, even if it was occasionally through stubborn arguing. Haruka felt like she was able to give Junko something, to pass on some of her experience. And in return, Junko was able to give her a sense of family and a glimpse at a life she could have had, if cruel fate hadn't stepped in and estranged her from both when she was far too young.

That same estrangement caused Haruka to mentally predict how her arrival would go even though she was blocks away. She would drive up. Himeko would peek out from one of the windows in the house and give her the evil eye. Junko would bound out of the house and into the car like a horse freed from a stable. Where she got the energy was a mystery still to Haruka. Gert might come out, if he felt up to it, and give Haruka a stern lecture about caution and not taking unnecessary risks with Junko's safety and to not fill her head with radical ideas. And she would endure it for Junko's sake until Junko would speak up and chastise her parent for his over-protectiveness.

At least they cared about Junko. It was more than she could say about herself where they were concerned.

All that conjecture went away when Haruka pulled within sight of the Tenoh home. Junko was out in the front of the house. That boy was with her. What was his name, Aki? He seemed to be pleading his case to her, while Gert stood on the front step and ordered him away. The two teens were ignoring him. There was no sign of violence, but that didn't matter to Haruka. She double-parked the car, as parking was a premium on the cramped little street, and headed toward them. Junko spotted her approach first and became apprehensive. That alerted Aki. He stopped talking to her and turned around just in time to find Haruka right on top of him. The older woman glared into his face and the youth was taken aback. He wasn't used to a woman being as tall as he was. And he certainly wasn't used to a woman looking this intimidating.

"What are you doing here?" Haruka rumbled. "Looking to take another poke at her?"

"Haruka, this doesn't concern you!" Gert shouted from the step. She ignored him, too.

"I was trying to apologize for that," Aki responded. He was trying to control his emotions, but Haruka didn't notice. She was busy trying to control hers.

"It's true, Haruka," Junko said. Haruka whirled on her. "He's sorry for what he did."

"Fine. He's apologized," Haruka asked with a guttural voice. "Why is he still here?"

"I want her back!" Aki pleaded. Haruka whirled on him. "I lost my head. I was wrong. It'll never happen again. I promise!"

Haruka turned back to Junko. "You're not considering taking him back, are you?" she demanded. Junko's was an articulate silence. "Junko, I can still see the bruise under your eye."

That caused Junko's jaw to set, an ominous sign among Tenohs.

"If she wants to take me back, that's her decision, not yours!" Aki snapped angrily. Haruka turned back to him, eyes flaring.

"Butt out of this, pipsqueak!" Haruka snarled. "Otherwise you're going to tangle with a woman who can fight back!"

"Haruka, don't!" Junko exclaimed, grabbing her sister's left arm. Haruka turned back to her, but Junko looked around her to Aki. "Aki, you better go."

"But Junko!" he persisted. Haruka turned to him.

"She - - said - - go!" Haruka hissed. Everyone watching knew that this scene was one wrong move away from a violent end.

Thankfully Aki backed down. He cast a meaningful glance at Junko, then looked again at Haruka. Haruka still glared, so he turned and sullenly walked away. When he was a hundred feet away, Haruka relaxed.

"A fine thing," Gert said. "I wouldn't condone that kind of behavior in a man, let alone a woman." The rebuke stung, even now, and Haruka turned back to Junko. The teen was visibly upset.

"Sorry that got out of hand," she told her sister. Junko nodded. "You still want to go to lunch? It's your call."

The girl thought about it for a few moments.

"Sure," Junko said softly. "Dad, I'm going with Haruka for lunch. We'll be gone a couple of hours, OK?"

"Enjoy yourself, eh?" Gert told her. Then he turned to go back inside.

"No lecture?" Haruka asked cynically.

"As if you'd listen," Gert responded.

There was some residual tension in the car. Haruka kept silent, as she usually did in such situations. Junko once again seemed a mirror image of her older sibling.

"Go ahead and ask," Junko said finally. "You know you want to."

"I'm not trying to run your life," Haruka replied. "I just don't understand. How can you even talk to that boy?"

"He's sorry, Haruka," Junko sighed. "He made a mistake."

"Yeah, a big one in my book," Haruka frowned. "You like him that much, that you'd put up with him hitting you?"

"He promised he wouldn't do it again. Doesn't everybody deserve a second chance? Isn't that what Sailor Moon is always saying?"

"How did Sailor Moon get into this?" Haruka asked. Junko looked away.

"Well," she began, "a lot of people look up to her, you know."

"Well I've always thought that giving second chances depends on who you're giving it to," Haruka argued. "Forgiveness is one thing, but you don't give a snake a second chance to bite you."

"He's not like that. Just because you hate men doesn't mean . . ." Junko began, but Haruka cut her off.

"I don't hate men," Haruka told her. "I'm just not attracted to them. There's a difference." She sighed in frustration. "It's your life, I suppose. If you want to give him a second chance . . ."

"I never said I would," Junko interrupted. "I'm considering it. There's a difference."

That lightened things just a little. "OK, message received. It's your decision. I hope you're right." They stopped at an intersection. "But if you do take him back, you might want to let him know that if he ever hits you again, there won't be a hole deep enough for him to crawl into."

"Haruka," Junko sighed with frustration.

"Believe me, kid, I really hope you're right about him," Haruka added.

* * *

It was noon on a Monday morning and Makoto Ikegami was returning from The Flowering Lotus Pre-School Academy, which was a fancy title for one of the many pre-elementary schools in which Japanese parents enrolled their four-year-old children. Those people were usually parents who wanted their child to get a jump on other children in academic performance, the better to succeed in Japanese society.

For Makoto, though, it was something parents did for their children's benefit more than for their own gratification. She wanted Akiko to succeed, certainly. Nothing would please her more than Akiko growing up to be more like Ami than the "big dumb jock" Makoto still thought of herself as. If this helped that scenario, then Akiko would attend. But it was more. When Makoto had been little, her parents had enrolled her in a pre-school academy, for all the good it did her. And if her parents had done it, it must have been right, since her parents were perfect in every regard, in Makoto's assessment. So that's what she was going to do now with Akiko, and later with Ichiro when he was old enough.

Ichiro was in his stroller, asleep, as they traveled down the city street. The new sights and sounds had worn him out. Akiko was walking in her harness and tether, bounding from one side of the sidewalk to the other. Good or bad, that was her daughter. Everything seemed to excite her. Even the prospect of school excited her. When Makoto first broached the subject of school, Akiko openly wondered what it was. When Makoto explained it to her, well, she couldn't start soon enough. School started in two weeks and the girl could barely contain herself.

And suddenly Makoto felt a pang. Akiko was starting school. It seemed like just yesterday she was holding Akiko in her arms, the infant even then restless and squirming in her blankets. Now, a scant few years later, she was big enough to jerk Makoto off of her feet if the child swerved suddenly - - and she was going to school.

"She'll be coming home with a boyfriend by next month at this rate," Makoto marveled to herself.

"Mommy, can we go into the park?" Akiko asked. As she was already pointed in that direction and dragging Makoto with her, the woman relented. Besides, it had been a while since she'd been in Juuban Park. So Makoto relented.

Sitting on a bench, Makoto unhooked the tether. Akiko instantly sprinted around the area, running to the flowers still blooming this late in the year, then to the lake, and back to some trees. Makoto tended to Ichiro while she sat.

"Akiko!" Makoto yelled, scanning the grounds and spotting her daughter running toward the lake again. "Don't go too far!"

"Yes, Mommy!" Akiko replied and continued on as if nothing had been said to her.

"Oh, that girl," Makoto sighed.

Ichiro began to stir. Makoto bent down and tickled the child's chin. Ichiro smiled, grateful for the sight of his mother, and wrapped his fingers around her finger. She shook it gently a few times.

"Can you say 'Mommy'?" she asked him. Ichiro was talking, but not a lot. Makoto couldn't decide if something was wrong with the child or if he was just shy. "Can you say 'finger'?"

Ichiro smiled. At least he got the joke.

"Akiko?" Makoto called out and scanned the grounds again.

There was no sign of her.

"Akiko?" Makoto called out anxiously, rising to her feet. Ice formed in the pit of her stomach. She looked around the park anxiously. Nobody was there except for a shady-looking man in the distance. He had slicked back black hair and sunglasses, one of the delinquent dregs of Japanese society grown up to be a delinquent adult. He was alone and too far away, so there was no way he could have done anything to Akiko, but Makoto didn't like the vibes she was getting from him.

And where was Akiko? Panic bubbling below the surface, Makoto scanned the area one more time. Finally she spotted a familiar shoe barely sticking out from behind a bush.

"Akiko, get over here!" Makoto snapped. The child bounced out from behind the bush and ran up to her mother.

"You couldn't find me, could you?" Akiko declared triumphantly.

"Don't - - scare me like that!" Makoto told her with clenched teeth.

"I was just playing!" Akiko protested.

"Well you had me worried," Makoto fussed, brushing the girl's bangs. "In spite of all the trouble you cause me, the last thing in the world I want to be is separated from you."

"Does that mean you're coming to school with me?" Akiko asked. Makoto grinned.

"No, Kiddo, you're going to have to do that by yourself," she said. "I'll just have to stay home and miss you."

Not liking the vibes again, Makoto glanced back at where the man had been. He wasn't there now, but Makoto felt it was time to leave. Hooking Akiko back onto her tether, she led her children out of the park and home. And all the way, she couldn't shake the troubled feelings she still had.

Continued in Chapter 4


	4. The Looming Unknown

BEHIND THE MASK

Chapter 4: "The Looming Unknown"

A Sailor Moon fanfic

By Bill K.

It was approaching seven p.m. when Mamoru eased into the apartment where he lived with his wife and their cat. The day had been full at his private practice. Business was booming and the caseload was beginning to take its toll. He didn't want to turn away new patients, but there were only so many hours in the day. And if he spread himself too thin, his quality of care might begin to suffer.

"Good evening, Mamoru," Luna greeted him, approaching from the kitchen. "I trust your day was productive."

"I hope so," he sighed. "One thing there doesn't ever seem to be a shortage of in this world are people with health concerns." He sniffed the air. "Dinner smells good."

"Yes, and she actually got back from the take-out restaurant in time to reheat it properly," Luna replied with a disdainful air.

Mamoru smiled. "You could always forage for your own," he remarked as he headed for the kitchen.

"Of course, punish the messenger when the message offends," muttered the black cat.

At the table, dinner looked excellent. Usagi might not be capable of preparing a great meal, but she did her best to present the restaurant fare with appetizing flair. Even Luna was silent about it, which meant Usagi had done a good job. But as they ate, Mamoru noticed a less-than-vibrant cast to his wife's mood.

"Something bothering you, Usako?" he asked. She shrugged demurely. "Are you still worried about your father?"

"It's been six weeks, Mamo-Chan," Usagi replied. "Daddy's a great photographer with a lot of experience, both in taking and editing pictures. Companies should be lining up to hire him."

"Well, maybe it's a shrinking market," he offered. "Pictures are out. Video is in. Does he have any video experience? Maybe he could get retrained?"

"Maybe," Usagi said unconvincingly. "What about the hospital you used to work in? They need people to take x-rays, don't they?"

"Usako," Mamoru chuckled. "You need a degree in radiology for that."

"Why? It's just taking pictures! Daddy's been doing that his whole life!"

"It's a little more complex than just 'taking pictures'," Mamoru told her. Usagi began to argue further.

"Usagi, don't speak of things you know nothing about," huffed Luna, looking up from her dish in the corner. Usagi scowled.

"How are their finances holding up?" Mamoru asked after a few more bites.

"Well, Mom says they're OK," Usagi related. "But I worry for how long? What if they have to start dipping into their savings to make ends meet?"

"I can always support them, Usako," Mamoru told her.

"Are you sure?"

"I've got more than enough coming in. I'll just have to postpone buying a few luxuries I was thinking about. Your parents are much more important."

"'Our' parents, Mamo-Chan," she grinned, grasping his hand. Mamoru felt his throat tighten and his eyes mist up.

"Right," he said, hoping his voice didn't crack. "Our parents. And I'd just be returning the favor from when he helped support us in the beginning. I just hope Kenji won't be too proud to take the help. Not being able to provide for your family is a bitter pill to swallow." Mamoru thought for a few moments. "Do you think he'd be insulted if I went over there this weekend and broached the subject with him? I don't want to hurt his feelings."

"I can go with you," offered Usagi. Then she smirked. "He's always had a lot of trouble saying 'no' to me."

"Yeah," grinned Mamoru. "I know the feeling."

* * *

Makoto went to the apartment door in answer to the buzzer. She peeped through the spy hole, then quickly opened the door.

"Hi, Ami," Makoto grinned warmly and ushered her friend inside. "I'm sorry to drag you over here on your off day, but Akiko needs medical certification for school and you are her doctor . . ."

"Makoto, it's perfectly fine," Ami advised her. "I understand Akiko needs this. Besides, it gives me an excuse to visit that isn't Sailor-related. Those times are always welcome."

"It does seem like we only get together during a crisis anymore," Makoto said ruefully. "I wish I could change that, but kids and a home are full time jobs anymore. I can't remember the last time San-San and I saw a movie that wasn't on television."

"Perhaps you two need to make time," Ami suggested. "Rei has told you time and again that you can drop the children off at the shrine any time. It would be good for you. And I think it would be good for Rei, too. Although I have noticed improvement in her spirits lately."

"Yeah, Akira-Sensei has really lifted a weight off of her," nodded Makoto. The two women entered the living room of the apartment. Akiko was glued to the television set, watching a DVD of Hamtaro.

"Come on, kiddo," Makoto knelt down and touched her daughter's shoulder. "Ami's here for your checkup."

"But I'm watching this!" Akiko protested, pointing a pudgy finger at the screen.

"You've seen it twenty times already!" argued Makoto.

"So?"

"You'll pick it up where you left off," Makoto said, taking the remote and stopping the DVD. "That's the beauty of DVDs. Now let's not keep the doctor waiting. It's rude."

"OK," scowled the child. But she brightened when she got up and saw Ami. "Hi, Aunt Ami! I'm four!"

"Yes, I remember," Ami smiled. She helped Akiko into a chair, then opened her black bag, removing a stethoscope. "Are you excited about going to school?"

"Yes," Akiko nodded. "Mommy says I'm going to meet lots and lots of new kids!"

"Did she also tell you that you're going to learn many new and wonderful things?" Ami asked as she listened to the child's heart rhythm.

"I guess," Akiko replied. Ami glanced up at Makoto.

"You can tell what her priorities are," Makoto grinned, shrugging.

Once Ami was finished with the exam, she allowed Akiko to resume watching Hamtaro. She and Makoto went into the kitchen to fill out the exam form for school. They sat at the kitchen table.

"She's very healthy," Ami remarked as she filled out the form. "She strikes me as a little big for her age."

"I think it's the genes," Makoto smiled ruefully. "I just hope she doesn't get too big. I'd hate for her to go through what I went through as a kid."

"Genetics aside, she seems a few pounds overweight," Ami said. "Does she get out much, Makoto?"

"I take her to the park when I can, but I don't always have the time," Makoto told her. "And there's really no place to play in the apartment building. And not a lot of kids to play with."

"Perhaps this will change now. Most good preschools have a recreation period and recreation facilities. I would just be sure to limit her snacks and sweets."

"I do what I can, but she's got the cunning of a burglar sometimes," Makoto responded.

Makoto seemed to grow melancholy. Ami picked up on it instantly. Makoto noticed her inquiring glance and flushed.

"I guess I'm a little overwhelmed by this," Makoto admitted. "She's going to be going to school in another week. Sure it's preschool, but it's still school." Makoto began misting up. "And I swear it wasn't that long ago that I was breast-feeding her and changing her diaper."

"And tomorrow she'll be dating and the next day she'll be graduating," Ami smiled, covering Makoto's hand with her own. "We only notice progression when we recall a previous reference point."

"Well, she's growing up too fast," Makoto grimaced. "And . . .well . . ."

"What?"

Makoto looked away. "I," she stammered, "won't be able to protect her - - at school."

"Makoto, she has to venture out sometime," Ami smiled.

"I could home school her," Makoto offered weakly.

"And I'm certain you'd do a very good job," Ami assured her. "But learning to interact with others is just as important a skill as math or language. And you can only learn that with others, preferably others of your own age or peer group."

"But what if something happens?" Makoto asked, her fear curling the edges of her voice.

"Makoto, things happen. You can only take so many precautions and be only so vigilant. I think Minako once summarized it best: Life is a series of risks and no matter what you do, you lose in the end. So you may as well make your plan, grab for the stars and risk failing spectacularly instead of holding back and failing miserably."

"You're quoting Blondie?" Makoto stared skeptically.

"Wisdom sometimes comes from the most unlikely of sources, Makoto," Ami smirked. "Sometimes a parent's job is to protect the child. And sometimes a parent's job is to let them try and catch them if they fall."

Makoto mulled that over silently. "Yeah. I guess so. Thanks, Ames." She got up from the table. "Now don't move from that spot. I'm cooking you lunch and no arguments."

"Yes, Makoto," Ami replied with good-humored resignation.

* * *

Ikuko Tsukino heard the front door open and close. She glanced up at the clock and noticed it was too early for Kenji. But then, that was Kenji's old schedule. Now that he was making the rounds job-hunting, there was no set time Kenji might be home. Peeking out into the hall, she saw her husband standing in the front hall. He was about to take off his shoes and put on his house slippers, but he'd stopped. The man just stared at the floor, consumed, it seemed, by hopelessness. Softly Ikuko approached him.

"Kenji?" she said and he looked up. It seemed to shake him out of his lethargy. He doffed his shoes and slipped into his slippers.

Now came the hard part. She wanted to ask him how his day had gone, but Ikuko hesitated. More and more, the question just seemed to reinforce his failure. She didn't want to drag up bad news again, but she didn't want to seem indifferent if he had good news. The look on his face, though, told her there probably wasn't good news to tell, so she left it alone.

"I know I'm a little early," he said, leaning in and kissing her lightly. "I'll help you if you like."

"That's sweet, but you don't have to," Ikuko told him charitably. "If you want to sit down and read or watch TV, that's fine. I won't be long."

Kenji nodded and headed into the living room. Ikuko followed him with her gaze. What could she do to lift his spirits that she hadn't already done? It ate at her, probably as much as his situation ate at him.

At dinner, Kenji was silent for the start. Ikuko tried to ease things by talking about her day, but the important question in their lives seemed to hang over the room like a boulder on a thread.

"I talked to Hideki Matsumoshi," Kenji said out of the blue. "He's the metro editor at Tokyo Shimbun. We started out together at the magazine twenty-five years ago."

"Oh? How is he doing?" Ikuko asked, but it wasn't the real question on her mind.

"He's all right. A little heavier than he was twenty-five years ago," Kenji smiled. He grew serious very quickly. "I think he knew why I was there. Their positions are pretty tight, too. He did offer me a stringer position. He said it was the best he could do, and only because he knows my work."

"Well, that's good news," his wife offered.

"I've got to track down the stories myself," Kenji frowned. "I've got to buy my own film, process my own pictures. They get first refusal rights and only if they decide to buy one do I get paid for my work. It's entry-level. It's entry-level to the entry-level."

"It's something," Ikuko said. "You work at your craft, you get paid for your craft. Yes, it's more work, but you work at your convenience. That leaves you time to look for something better, and it gets your foot in the door should something open up at Tokyo Shimbun."

"Yeah," Kenji nodded and Ikuko knew her words had impressed him. "If the paper lasts that long. I'd hate to be back on the street in six months."

"You could always change careers," Ikuko suggested.

Kenji sighed. "I don't know anything else but photography. And I may be too old to learn. I'm forty-eight years old, Ikuko."

"Then take this. Perhaps it isn't much. But it's a life preserver, dear," Ikuko told him. "It's not meant to see you through the rest of your life. It's just there to hold you up until you manage to rescue yourself."

Silently Kenji reached out and grasped his wife's hand. She held onto his hand as if she was keeping him from going over a waterfall.

* * *

Junko and Akinori sat across a table in a fast food restaurant, sharing an evening meal. They planned to go out for the evening.

"I love that dress," Aki said. Junko wore a black dress with short sleeves, a modest bodice and a short hem that brought out one of her father's patented lectures. The fact that she was in a dress meant how important the evening was to her. "It really looks good on you."

"Thanks, Aki," Junko said, glancing down demurely. He could be such a boost to her ego when he wanted to be. It was one of the things she liked about him. His soft, boyish looks didn't hurt, either.

"That's why I think the Music Center would be a much better place to show it off," Aki continued. "Everybody's eyes will pop when they see you. And wait until you hear this band."

"Aki," Junko moaned. "I thought we decided this. We were going to go see 'Garden Of Hollows'."

"But why can't we go to the Music Center?" Akinori persisted. "You can see that movie any time."

"Aki, we always go where you want to go," sighed Junko. "I'd like to see this movie." Her tight black dress was good for either venue, so it wasn't a question of how she looked.

"Junko, I guarantee you will love this band," Aki told her.

"No, Aki, we agreed to see this movie and you're going to live up to that," Junko stiffened.

"You agreed," snorted the youth. Junko's mouth hardened.

"Well if it's that much of an imposition, we don't have to go anywhere," Junko remarked. She got up to get out of the booth. Aki's hand closed around her wrist and he pulled her back down. Junko didn't resist out of indifference.

"Sit down," scowled Aki. "All right. You win. We'll go see the movie."

Junko almost responded, but decided to drop it. She knew Aki was loathe to let anyone else have the last word. A pair of french fries dipped in a cup of ketchup and came up to her mouth. Aki could be so nice sometimes. If only she could think of a way to coax this juvenile side of him into leaving for good.

"Hey, Junko-kun," Masashi Kumugato said as he waved in passing. Masashi was a mid-fielder on the soccer team. She and Masashi shared English Studies class. As usual, Keiko Fukuru was clamped onto him like another appendage.

"Hey, Masashi-kun," Junko waved back. Turning back to her french fries, Junko popped a few more into her mouth. That's when she noticed the angry glare on Aki's face.

"Is that the way you think someone should act when she's out with another man?" the youth demanded.

"What?" gaped Junko.

"You're not with him," Aki growled. "You're with me."

"Aki, what are you talking about? I just said 'hello'."

"You were flirting with him!" fumed Aki. "You did everything but rip your dress off and throw yourself at him!"

Junko's eyes flared. Her jaw set. She slid out of the booth and got to her feet, Aki matching her movements.

"This evening is over," Junko hissed.

"Sit down!" Aki demanded.

"Don't you tell me what . . .!" Junko didn't get to finish. Aki's open hand smacked her across the face.

"You sit down this . . .!" Aki didn't get to finish, because Junko returned the slap with as much force as she could muster.

"I warned you what would happen if you ever hit me again!" Junko snarled, her teeth bared and her eyes blazing. Aki stared angrily.

Then he delivered a right fist that knocked Junko to the floor of the fast food restaurant. Amazed patrons turned around and stared.

"Now you get back in that booth!" Aki rumbled. He seized Junko by her long blonde hair and pulled the girl to her feet.

Junko came up swinging, landing a glancing blow on Aki's shoulder. She lunged for his face and gouged at it with her nails. Aki recoiled, and Junko took her chance to rain more fists down on him. Most of them were ineffectual. Junko didn't really know how to fight. All she had going for her was the seething Tenoh family anger that seemed to rumble beneath the surface of them all, so what she lacked in skill, she made up for with passion. But Aki shook them off and nailed her again, knocking the girl back to the floor. At that point, the duty manager at the restaurant interceded between them.

"No more fighting in here," the man said. He was thin, in his forties, with thick glasses. "Take your dispute outside. You're disturbing my customers."

Taking advantage of the intervention, Junko was up and out the door in a flash. Aki pushed past the restaurant manager and blew through the doors in pursuit. However, when he got outside, he found no sign of Junko. The youth kicked the restaurant door in frustration.

Continued in Chapter 5


	5. Hard Lesson

BEHIND THE MASK

Chapter 5: "Hard Lesson"

A Sailor Moon fanfic

By Bill K.

The light was on in Michiru's studio. It was nearly ten and the light was only on in her studio when she was absorbed with something. Cradling a cup of warm milk, because it helped her sleep, Haruka eased into the doorway and peeked inside. She expected Michiru to be working on a painting. Such things usually absorbed her and kept her from cuddling on the sofa most of the evening.

But she wasn't painting. This time Michiru was hard at work at her desk, writing something. Her curiosity piqued, Haruka stole into the room and eased up behind her love. Peering over the woman's shoulder, Haruka found Michiru working on bar paper, writing music.

"What's that?" Haruka asked.

"A new piece I'm working on," Michiru replied absently, trying to maintain concentration on the melody in her head.

"You're serious about touring?"

Michiru stopped and uttered a small sigh of frustration. Haruka's interruption had caused her to lose the melody and she knew better than to try to recapture it and talk to Haruka at the same time.

"Yes," Michiru said, then glanced up at her mate. "Weren't you?"

"Sure, I don't mind. I just didn't think it would inspire you this quickly."

"I didn't think so either, at first. But the more I thought about it, the more I grew to like the idea," Michiru eased back in her chair. "Just think, Haruka: Visiting all the old venues we played when we were younger, thrilling the audiences, just the two of us going on the road." Then she grew a devilish smirk. "You in evening clothes."

"The monkey suit," scowled Haruka.

"Oh, but it makes you look like such a sexy little monkey," Michiru mocked.

"Thanks, I think," Haruka replied.

"If I can get three or four good new pieces finished, then mix in a few audience favorites and a few pieces I haven't tried yet, we'd have a show," Michiru outlined enthusiastically.

"We'd still need rehearsal time," Haruka warned her. "You know how you are. And I have to get back to the pro circuit in mid-February."

"Yes," Michiru sighed, crest-fallen. "Maybe we could squeeze in a few dates in late January - - if I can get these pieces done." She sighed again and let her head fall back over the chair. "Who am I kidding? There's no way something with any kind of quality could be put together that quickly."

"Sorry for the reality check," Haruka smiled. She leaned down and kissed Michiru. "But don't give up. There's always 2008 to shoot for."

"Like I could wait that long," Michiru grumbled. "I've got the itch to perform now! I can't just file it away."

"You've got the itch to prove your label wrong for dropping you," Haruka jabbed.

"There's that, too," Michiru admitted. "Oh, well, if it has to be." She glanced again at her companion with wicked mirth. "And there could always be an international fuel crisis and the Formula-1 season could be called off."

"Wash your mouth out," Haruka said as she wandered out of the room.

* * *

Himeko Tenoh heard the front door close. She turned in her chair to see if it was Junko. Of course she was waiting up for the girl. She'd never admit it, particularly to Junko, but she was waiting up. There was still the protective maternal instinct in her and it was hard to fight, no matter how much Junko protested otherwise.

Gert was asleep in his chair. Late hours were something he could tolerate less and less anymore. That was his pattern now: Asleep by nine, up at two, and then again at five. No matter what he did, his body had other ideas. The door didn't disturb him, so Himeko let him sleep for now.

But Junko didn't come into the front room, even though it was obvious by the light that her parents were still up. Instead, footsteps told Himeko that her daughter had gone directly upstairs. The woman got up and went to the front hall, looking up the stairs. She was hesitant to intrude into her daughter's privacy, but at the same time was concerned. Concern finally won out and she followed the footsteps upstairs.

At the top of the steps, she found Junko in the bathroom. The girl was sitting on the towel chest, looking at her reflection in the medicine cabinet mirror. The girl seemed to just stare. She was oblivious to Himeko's presence. That right there scared the life out of the older woman. Cautiously approaching, she got to the doorway of the bathroom.

"Junko?" Himeko inquired. Her daughter turned to her suddenly with a look of a deer in headlights on her face. Then, just as quickly, she turned away.

But Himeko had seen the bruises.

"What happened?" Himeko asked, sublimating her indignation to project a blanket of sympathy for her child. "Did he hit you again?"

Junko didn't want to answer. She was clearly shamed by the entire incident. Finally, when she realized that neither Himeko nor her question would go away, the girl nodded silently.

"What caused it?" Himeko asked gently. "Were you arguing again?"

"I don't know," Junko replied impatiently. "We were eating. I said 'hi' to a guy I know from school, and then Aki just flipped out. He started throwing accusations at me and when I tried to leave," and Junko paused, the memory of the incident bitter in her mouth, "he hit me."

Himeko looked down, her face stinging with disillusionment. "Obviously this boy isn't what we all thought him to be. He clearly has problems he needs to deal with before he should consider taking a girl out again." She moved in and stroked Junko's hair. "Do you need to see a doctor?"

Junko shook her head. "Nothing's broken."

"I'll get you some ice for your face," Himeko told her. She hesitated at the doorway. "You're done with him, aren't you?"

"Yeah," Junko said with a scowl. "It's like Haruka told me: You don't give a snake a second chance to bite you." Himeko frowned at the mention of Haruka's name, but let it pass. Junko looked up suddenly. "Mom, please don't call Haruka up and start throwing accusations at her! I really don't want her to know about this!"

Himeko patted her daughter's shoulder. "That's perfectly fine with me. I don't happen to think this family's affairs are any of her concern any longer."

The woman left and Junko glanced back at the mirror at the ugly bruise on the side of her face. Her mother may have her own reasons for excluding Haruka from this, but they weren't Junko's reasons. The teen knew Haruka's temper and sense of justice. And she knew Haruka had too much to lose, both as a championship racer and as Sailor Uranus, to get involved in some revenge vendetta against a high school student.

Although, she had to admit to herself that the mental picture of Aki getting hit with World Shaking had a dark appeal to it right about now.

* * *

Morning brought Rei Hino out into the sunshine to tour the grounds of Hikawa Shrine, something she did every morning. The nice weather, despite the onset of fall and the changing temperatures, made the duty less of a duty. Hikawa Shrine and the grounds around it were her charge, her responsibility to keep up. But more than that, it was her home. It was one of the few things in this world that was hers, that meant something to her, and she was going to keep it as nice as her grandfather had kept it. Many of the visitors remarked to her at how nice the grounds were. It made the hard work she put in worth it.

In the distance, on her left, Akira-sensei was talking with three teenage girls who had stopped in on their way to school. The breathless voices and starry eyes were traits of the three girls that Rei recognized from her own youth and a smirk grew on her lips. Visitors had increased since Akira-sensei had joined the shrine and a good eighty percent of them were teenage girls. Akira had been genuinely surprised when she made that observation to him, but it didn't surprise her. She knew what teenage girls liked. She'd been one herself once, although it was hard to believe sometimes. Just like it was hard to believe she could have ever acted that way when she was that age.

Although the thick autograph book in her bedroom said otherwise.

"Rei!" a woman's voice called out. The priest turned and found Ryoko walking across the grounds toward her. It had been several weeks since she'd seen Ryoko. The woman still favored pants and flannel shirts. Every time she saw Ryoko, Rei couldn't help but think of the commercials for American hiking boots that ran on the electronic billboards in the Ginza, featuring rugged men and women scaling cliffs with just their hands and the featured boots, dressed similarly to Ryoko.

"Good morning, Ryoko. So you're finally back," Rei smiled. Instantly she read what Ryoko wanted, but said nothing. That always seemed to put people off and Rei had learned to curb the tendency to admit what she knew.

"Well, Seiji and I had to return to work eventually," Ryoko said wistfully. The happiness the woman felt flooded around Rei and nearly gave her a contact high. "I wouldn't have minded staying in that cabin on Lake Biwa forever, but you can't live on love alone, no matter what the poets say."

"That's what they say," Rei nodded. "Did you manage to meet Ami's father while you were there?"

"Yes," Ryoko related. "He's very talented. A little eccentric, though. When Seiji and I first encountered him, he was by the lake painting. He seemed very distant. But later in the week, he actually sought us out and apologized, and we spent a very nice evening with him. He knows so much about the lake and the woods."

"Yeah, that's her dad," Rei agreed.

"Anyway, I just wanted to stop by and thank you again for performing the wedding ceremony for us," Ryoko continued. "It was really beautiful. I think I'll cherish the memory of that day forever, and it was because of you just as much as because I was marrying Seiji."

"I'm glad you were satisfied," Rei told her. "Weddings are one of the happier duties I have to perform and I'm grateful you were able to give me another opportunity to do so."

"And Mom loved it," Ryoko added humorously. "She said it was more beautiful than she could ever have imagined. And as soon as I give her a grandchild, her life will be complete."

"Any progress?" inquired Rei.

"Not that I know of," Ryoko replied, slightly embarrassed. "Although it's not for lack of trying, that's for sure!" Both women chuckled over that.

"Well, I can sell you a charm for that if you want," Rei giggled.

"Thanks, but us 'modern' women don't buy into that," Ryoko said. "Thanks again for the wedding, Rei. It was better than I could have imagined." She thought a moment. "Although I guess we could have done without Usagi sniffling all through the ceremony."

"Actually, she was fairly restrained," Rei replied with a cynical look. "But we both know by now that dignity isn't her strong suit." She took Ryoko's hands and looked into the woman's eyes. "May the blessings of the gods be with you and Seiji, and may they grant you many years of happiness."

"Thank you," Ryoko beamed. "Now I just need to call Minako and thank her again. After all, I wouldn't have met Seiji if it wasn't for her. Do you remember what city she's in today?"

"Hakodate," Rei answered. Then she stiffened. "Not that I'm following it THAT closely. I just - - remember reading it."

Ryoko smirked knowingly.

* * *

It was a typical morning in Azabu-Juuban; except, that is, for Kenji Tsukino. For the first time in his life, he was out hunting for news. All his life he had been a staff photographer, taking pictures of events assigned to him. Later he had been an editor and passed out the assignments. He'd never had to dig up his own news as a stringer. And there was more than a little doubt in his mind as to whether he could do it. But he had a wife at home that loved him and depended upon him and he couldn't let her down.

He had his camera. It was an older model Nikon that pre-dated digital pictures, but it was familiar and comfortable to use. He also had a radio that could tune into the police bands. It was mounted onto the dashboard of the family car. Kenji had already heard several incidents on the band this morning, but they'd all been too far away for him to get to. Tokyo was, after all, a very large city.

And he hadn't bought any film yet. That's why he was in this convenience store in Azabu-Juuban. His ten year old Toyota was parked outside, waiting for him. He was here, plucking a mixture of black and white and high speed color film from a display. But by the time ten rolls had landed in his basket, Kenji stopped. Mentally he added the ten rolls up. The cost was uncomfortable. Money was still tight. But he needed that film. There was no telling what the editor at the paper might buy. He had to make a sale.

A noise caused him to turn. Kenji's eyes popped behind his thick black frame glasses. Two young hoods, delinquents both about fifteen, were at the counter. One had a black automatic shoved at the register clerk. His arm was high and the gun was pointed down. Kenji recognized that the hood was imitating the American gang members from the American television dramas that played nightly. The other delinquent wore dark glasses and canvassed the store, on the look out for trouble. His gazed fixed on Kenji.

"You got a problem, Pop?" the youth asked. He had the sneering confidence of so many delinquents in Japan, the swagger of someone rebelling against the regimentation of Japanese society by being openly contemptuous of everyone and everything.

Kenji didn't say anything. He didn't approve, but there was nothing he could do to stop them. The delinquent knew this, too, and smirked his contempt for Kenji. It made Kenji feel angry. It was one more thing in this world that was openly showing him how weak he was, how useless he was as a husband, as a provider, as a man. And, just as bad, it was something he could have photographed, maybe sold, if only he'd been ready. It was like life was dangling this in front of him to show him how impotent he'd become.

The cashier handed over a sack filled with money. The gun-wielding youth grabbed it and the pair sprinted for the door. But at the door, they were met by two uniformed officers of the Tokyo Metro Police. Their guns were drawn and they were ready to fire.

"GET ON THE FLOOR NOW!" the two officers bellowed and the two "rebels" obeyed quickly. Kenji wandered over to the cash register as the pair were cuffed and hauled out. This would have been even more newsworthy. It would have sold - - if only he'd been prepared.

"I hope they both get what's coming to them," grumbled the cashier. His name was Matsumoto. Kenji often stopped here in the past on the way to the train station for a paper and a canned juice.

"I could have shot them both," mumbled Kenji, meaning with his camera.

"Could have got yourself killed, more like," Matsumoto replied. "Punks like them aren't like us, Tsukino-San. They don't care about human life."

Kenji stared at Matsumoto for a moment and wasn't certain they were talking about the same thing. Then he paid for his film and headed for the aging Toyota to find something newsworthy to photograph. But he couldn't shake the feeling that his best chance had already occurred and he'd let it slip through his fingers.

* * *

In the halls of her high school, Junko Tenoh tried to avoid the gaze of others. If she could melt into the background or hide in her own shadow, she would. The girl knew, she just knew, that everybody in school was staring at the bruises on her face. Her home room teacher even asked her about it, inquired if she was having any trouble at home. Some of her girl friends had asked her about them, too. Finally Junko had taken to telling everyone who asked that she'd been mugged after school.

It wasn't far from the truth, at least in her mind. Aki had battered her and tried to rob her of something: her free will. He'd tried to force her to his will with genuine force. But she'd stopped him. She wanted to feel proud. She should feel proud. It's what she should have done. Don't submit willingly. Fight for your self-respect, even if you lose. That's what Haruka would have done.

So why did she feel shamed instead?

"Junko," she heard before she saw and stopped suddenly to avoid running into him. Aki was there, standing right in front of her. He looked like a penitent puppy, all sad, moist eyes and droopy mouth.

She started to walk around him, giving off waves of icy demeanor. Aki reached out and caught her hand, but Junko snatched it away and whirled on him.

"DON'T YOU TOUCH ME!" she hissed venomously. Other students in the hall stared in surprise.

"Junko, I'm sorry!" he begged. "I don't know what came over me! I swear I'll never do it again!"

"Oh, you're damn right you'll never do it again!" raged Junko. "Because you will never come near enough to me to ever get the chance!"

"Why do you have to be like this?" he wailed. "I said I was sorry! Can't you believe me?"

"No! Want to know why?" Junko spat and pointed to the bruise on her jaw.

"It won't happen again!" Aki pleaded. "Junko, I love you!"

"You've got a funny way of showing it," Junko replied acidly.

"We can make this work! Give me one more chance!" Aki persisted.

"You make it work. I'm done with this."

She turned to leave.

"So, what, did your dyke sister tell you to say that?" snarled Akinori. Junko whirled on him again, eyes blazing.

"You leave my sister out of this!" snapped Junko. "Haruka has nothing to do with this! This is between me and you," and she gestured savagely at Aki's hands, "and those two fists you love to swing the minute you don't get your way! Well I'm through being your punching bag! Get this through your head, Aki! I - am - through - with - you!"

And Junko stormed off down the hall. Aki stared after her, oblivious to the other students staring at him. His eyes narrowed.

"Think so, huh?" he muttered to himself.

Continued in Chapter 6


	6. Abnormal As Normal

BEHIND THE MASK

Chapter 6: "Abnormal As Normal"

A Sailor Moon fanfic

By Bill K.

People stopped and glanced back at the three people passing on the street. They smiled and took in the amusing family tableau. Makoto Ikegami was walking down the street, holding the hand of one of her children in each of hers. Akiko was off her tether and harness. Makoto had worried about how it would look, and that it would muss the pristine new clothes Akiko was wearing for her first day of pre-school. So she was trusting her daughter to behave - - but she had a firm grip on Akiko's hand. Ichiro was on her other side, tentatively trying to execute this new thing called walking. His slow pace caused Makoto to slow down. This, in turn, tried the patience of the ever-active Akiko. When the pace got too slow she would pull ahead. That earned her a jerk back into line and a verbal reprimand from her mother. Said reprimand would slow her down for a few minutes, but soon she was back to tugging at Makoto's hand, eager to be at her destination with all its promise of new, different and exciting wonders.

"Akiko, hold on a minute," Makoto finally sighed and stopped the caravan. Generously Akiko stood still while Makoto hoisted Ichiro up into her arm and braced him against her chest. "Oh, my, we're not going to be doing this much longer, Champ," Makoto exclaimed. Balancing the weight of her son, Makoto then dangled her right hand down. Akiko's attention had already wandered, but Makoto shook her hand and got Akiko to take it before she thought to bolt. From there, they continued to walk until they reached the pre-school.

"Good morning, Mrs. Ikegami," one of the pre-school employees smiled, bowing to her. "And this must be little Akiko-Chan. My, you're a big girl."

"I'm four," Akiko proclaimed proudly.

"Only four?" the employee, a young woman with a practiced empathy for young children, said as she knelt to Akiko. "I would have thought you were much older than that. Are you ready to start school?"

"Yes, ma'am," Akiko nodded enthusiastically. She was about to run off toward one of the door, but Makoto's hand on her head stopped her. Makoto knelt down by the girl and set Ichiro down onto his own feet.

"You're sure you're ready for this, honey?" Makoto asked, though it was obvious Akiko was more prepared than she was.

"Yes, Mommy," Akiko said, nodding. Makoto brushed at the child's dark hair.

"Oh," Makoto exclaimed, tearing up as she stroked her daughter's face. "It's not fair! You're not supposed to grow up this fast!"

"Mommy, I'll be fine!" Akiko assured her. Frankly, the girl was confused about why her mother was acting this way.

"All right," Makoto said, struggling to get hold of her emotions. "Now you be a good girl and do what the teachers tell you. And no fighting. And no running. And - - and have fun."

The pre-school employee gently interceded and took Akiko's hand. Together, the pair headed for one of the doors leading into the main part of the pre-school. Makoto knelt and waved.

"Nee-Chan?" Ichiro spoke up softly as Akiko headed away. Makoto picked the boy up and brought him to her chest as Akiko and the woman disappeared behind the door.

"It's all right, Ichiro," Makoto whispered, as much for herself as for his benefit. "She'll be back later. Your sister has to go to school now."

Sniffing back tears, Makoto headed out the front door and into the passing pedestrian traffic.

"Come on, Champ," Makoto told her son. "We have to stop by the market and pick up something good for dinner. We have to celebrate your sister's first day of school."

* * *

"And then you take the seasoning you've prepared," Ikuko Tsukino instructed while her twenty-seven year old daughter watched intently, "and sprinkle it over the fish like this." She waved her cupped hands gently over the salmon side laying on the baking sheet, dusting the fish with a mixture of seasoning.

"Right," Usagi nodded and Ikuko got a flashback to twelve years ago. A teenage Usagi had begged Ikuko to teach her some cooking tips so she could impress Mamoru, much like she had now. The expression of intense concentration Usagi had now greatly resembled the expression Usagi wore then. Hopefully the results would be better.

"And with the light oil we brushed onto the meat, the seasoning sticks to it and the heat will sear in into the meat," Ikuko continued. She slid the pan into the oven. "And when it's done, it should be light and tender and tasty. Got it?"

Usagi was about to respond positively, but then her expression sank. "No," she replied glumly. "Probably not."

"You just need a little practice and a few successes to boost your confidence," Ikuko told her patiently.

"I've been practicing for almost ten years now," whined Usagi. "Some people are destined to cook and some people are destined to eat out. That's why restaurants will never disappear."

"You've become a philosopher," Ikuko lightly chided her daughter.

"So how's Daddy doing?" Usagi asked as she wiped up spilled oil with a cloth. She heard Ikuko sigh and turned to her mother. "Is it still that bad? I thought he had that stringy job."

"Stringer, dear," Ikuko corrected from reflex. "He's made a few sales. But not enough to consider it a regular source of income - - not yet. It's very difficult work and very cutthroat." Ikuko grew melancholy. "And I'm afraid your father is just too nice a man."

"Mom, you sound so worried."

"You should see your father when he comes home," Ikuko said, her brow furrowed. "He's tired, but mostly he's frustrated. He doesn't like what he's doing. He won't admit it, but I can tell. He's frustrated and humiliated by this and he finds many aspects of the job distasteful. He's not someone who thrives on competition. Losing out on sales frustrates him, but he can't bring himself to do some of the things to succeed at this. Yet he marches off to this job he hates day after day," and Ikuko began to become emotional, "because he swore to provide for me."

Usagi gathered her mother in her arms and hugged her.

"I wish he'd stop, Usagi," Ikuko sobbed. "I'd rather live in poverty than see him destroy himself like this. I'm just afraid that living in poverty would destroy him, too. Oh, that magazine was his life. And now that he doesn't have it anymore, he doesn't know how to compensate."

"I wish I could do something," Usagi whimpered. "Mamo-Chan and I offered to support you both."

"And it was very generous, Usagi," Ikuko said. "And maybe Kenji can someday see what he's doing to himself and swallow his pride and accept your gift."

Suddenly Usagi pulled back from her mother. Ikuko saw a familiar light in her daughter's eyes. It always meant in the past that she'd gotten a brainstorm - - a condition that wasn't always good news.

"What are you planning?" Ikuko asked warily.

"Mom, Sailor Moon is news, isn't she?" Usagi asked.

"I'd say so," Ikuko agreed suspiciously. She knew her daughter was Sailor Moon.

"What if," Usagi smirked triumphantly, "the next time Sailor Moon is needed, Daddy gets tipped?"

* * *

"Hello?" Gert Tenoh said into the phone. He'd just gotten home from the bank and caught the phone before anyone else could get it. Himeko was in the hall, looking apprehensive at her husband.

Seeing the Prussian blood rise in Gert's face and cheeks told Himeko who was on the line. She sighed with frustration.

"Now you listen to me, you little snake!" Gert blustered angrily into the phone. "My daughter is too good for the likes of you! You don't call her again! You don't come around here again! You leave her alone or so help me I'll have the law on you! Do you hear me?"

The reply caused the man to slam the phone down.

"Honestly, what is wrong with the kids today?" Gert demanded of no one in particular. "Why doesn't he take the hint? She doesn't want to see him! Why, Mama?"

"Gert, watch your blood pressure," Himeko reminded him.

"Hang my blood pressure! I'm talking about our little girl here!" Gert growled. He bolted for the stairs. "By God, I find out what goes on here!"

Himeko watched him lumber up the stairs, then sighed and returned to the kitchen.

"Curse the day she met that boy," the woman scowled. "He most certainly has to be a demon child."

Junko was laying on her bed trying to read her chemistry text for school. It was a dry subject to her in the first place, but hearing her father's ranting downstairs didn't help any. Then she heard his footsteps ascending the stairs, put down the book and exhaled. Her door was open, so Gert stormed in.

"Are you seeing that boy again?" he demanded.

"No, Dad," Junko sighed.

"Then why does he keep calling?

"Dad, I can handle it."

"This you call handling it? Is he bothering you? Has he raised his hand to you?"

"Dad, please," sighed Junko. "I can handle it."

"He was very threatening on the phone," Gert maintained. "Has he threatened you?"

Junko didn't answer. That was answer enough.

"I'm calling the law," Gert decided. Junko swung up to a sitting position.

"Dad, don't!" Junko told him.

"Why not?" Gert demanded. "That's why the law is here, to handle such things! Have you told the school administrators? Why not? That's why they're here! Seventeen year old girls shouldn't have to handle such things! Why shouldn't I call them?"

"Because it's embarrassing!" Junko spat angrily. "It was bad enough walking through school with those bruises! I don't want any more of this to get out!"

"And what if he should grow worse?" Gert asked her point blank. Junko didn't have an answer for that. "That is why I let the law handle it. Because this boy is not going to take you from me, Junko."

Gert left and Junko flopped back down on her bed. Things were beginning to spiral out of control. What should she do? Haruka would know. But she didn't want Haruka involved. Haruka had too much to lose.

A rock suddenly crashed through Junko's bedroom window. Scrambling from her bed, the teen peered out the broken window, but she could see nothing. As her parents clambered up the stairs, Junko picked up the rock. A note was tied to it. Opening the note, Junko read it.

It said "always mine".

* * *

Afternoon brought Makoto back to the pre-school. Ichiro was in tow, so her pace was deliberate. She wanted to let him walk as much as he could because she knew he could use the practice. But it slowed her up more than she anticipated. Dinner would be late tonight, unless she picked something up to go. Immediately her mind rebelled at the very thought, but it might just be necessary. Although Makoto didn't know how she was going to carry Ichiro and take-out AND ride herd on Akiko, especially if she was amped from her first day.

The doors slid open. It took a few seconds and a gentle prod for Ichiro to reach the conclusion that he was supposed to walk through the open doors. The woman at the desk smiled upon seeing them.

"Hello, Mrs. Ikegami," the woman chirped. "Here to pick up little Akiko?"

"I hope she wasn't too much trouble," Makoto offered penitently.

"Nothing we couldn't handle," the woman assured her. "I must say she is an energetic child."

"I know. I'm sorry about that," Makoto grimaced.

"Mrs. Ikegami," the woman said reassuringly. "We're used to dealing with children that age. Mostly you just have to establish a few rules and keep their interest. Your daughter is no different than a lot of the other children."

"Yeah?" Makoto replied with surprise.

"In fact, she took to the other children very quickly. Akiko seems very eager to please others, particularly her peers. I think she made a few friends today."

Makoto sighed happily. "That's really great to hear. There aren't any other children in our building. The only time she meets other kids her age is at the park and I can't get to the park as often as I'd like. This may be just what she needs."

"I think so," the woman agreed.

Just then one of the other associates came out leading Akiko by the hand. When she spotted Makoto and Ichiro, the girl jerked away and ran up to them.

"Mommy, it was great!" Akiko exclaimed as Makoto knelt to greet her. "We sang songs and played games! And we learned about numbers and letters! And Ikuru-Sensei taught me how to make the kanji for my name!"

"Wow," marveled Makoto. "You're going to have to show me that when we get home."

"Nee-chan!" Ichiro exclaimed happily.

"Hi, Ichiro," Akiko said. "Were you a good boy while I was gone? You didn't cry or anything, did you?"

Ichiro cackled happily.

"So you liked your first day of school?" Makoto asked.

"It was great! Can I come back tomorrow?" Akiko responded hopefully.

"Sure," Makoto smiled. She glanced at the school associates. "Easiest sale I've ever had to make." They smiled in return. "You can come back every day but Saturday and Sunday." Makoto rose to her feet, hoisted Ichiro into her arms and extended her hand for Akiko to take. "It's time to go now. Thank your teachers."

Akiko turned and bowed to the associates. "Thank you very much for teaching me!" The two women bowed in return. Dutifully Akiko grasped her mother's hand.

"We've got to pick up some dinner," Makoto told her as they walked out. "Then you can tell your Daddy all about your first day of school."

"McDonalds?" Akiko asked hopefully.

"Yeah, I DON'T think so," Makoto replied cynically.

* * *

Kenji Tsukino was driving home from another fruitless day of looking for news to shoot. He'd gotten a few pictures of the district floral commission dedicating a new section of Juuban park. They might be good illustrations for a human interest piece if the editor was so inclined. But they weren't guaranteed sales and they wouldn't fetch much of a price if they did sell. The only thing on the scanner right now was some traffic chatter. None of the accidents seemed particularly interesting, as they was no major property damage or loss of life.

And at that moment Kenji realized how callously he'd dismissed it, how he'd actually been slightly disappointed that no one had been killed so he could get a juicy photograph.

"I can't go on like this," he murmured. His car pulled up to a traffic light and stopped. "I have to find something else. There HAS to be something else."

His cell phone rang. It was the cell phone Usagi had given him for his birthday. He hardly used it. And Usagi was the only one who ever called him on it. Still he had given the number to the paper, in case they had something for him they wanted photographed. Pulling the phone from his jacket, Kenji pulled his car off to the side of the street and answered it.

"Kenji Tsukino?" the caller asked. It was a woman's voice. He didn't recognize her voice - - and yet, in a way, he thought he did.

"Who is this?" Kenji asked.

"Would you like to get pictures of the Sailor Senshi in action?"

"Listen, who is this? How did you get this number?" Kenji demanded.

"Go to the place where they're building the new apartment building," the caller continued, ignoring his inquiries. "The one on Avenue D in Azabu-Juuban. The Sailor Senshi will be there investigating a-a demon. Yes, a demon."

"How do you know this?" Kenji probed.

"I know many things," the mystery caller replied.

Kenji thought for a moment.

"Usagi?" he asked.

"No!" gasped the voice. "Of course not! Who is this 'Usagi' person? Ha ha ha ha!"

"Get off the phone, stupid!" Kenji heard another woman hiss in the background.

"Um, just . . . be there!" the voice added. Then the connection was broken.

Kenji stared at the phone, unsure how to act. The voice wasn't Usagi's. But it reminded him of Usagi. And it was a voice he'd heard before. Besides, it couldn't be Usagi. Why would his little princess make a strange call like that?

Now the question was should he follow up on the tip? It seemed so concocted that it had to be a prank. But pictures of the Sailor Senshi in action would be guaranteed sales, and if he got an exclusive he could almost name his price. Plus it might increase his standing at the paper, perhaps land him a permanent position.

The ancient Toyota gunned into life and pulled out into traffic. He had to follow up on it. There wasn't any choice, really. Kenji told himself that when he arrived at the construction site, he'd have to remember to call Ikuko and let her know he'd be late for dinner.

Continued in Chapter 7


	7. Shadow Of Evil

BEHIND THE MASK

Chapter 7: "Shadow Of Evil"

A Sailor Moon fanfic

By Bill K.

An ancient Toyota pulled up to a deserted construction site. Steel girders reached two hundred feet into the air and the area was scattered with gouged earth, bags of cement on pallets and a huge crane that actually towered above the spires of steel. Kenji Tsukino got out of his car, camera dangling from his neck, and looked around. The sun had just set and there was only two other cars visible in the area. Everything seemed normal, so normal that Kenji was about to conclude he had been pranked by the mysterious voice on his cell phone and go home to his loving wife.

"Wait a minute," he whispered to himself. "That gate isn't locked."

Walking over to the gate that was supposed to close off the fenced-in construction site, Kenji found that the chain was unlocked and the gate slightly ajar. And then he heard the sounds of a scuffle from inside the grounds. Pushing through the gate, Kenji ventured inside and around to the north end of the site. He held his camera at the ready. Any moment he expected to be stopped by a security guard, but nobody else seemed to be here but him - - and whoever was creating those noises.

Cautiously he peeked around the corner of the building skeleton. His eyes popped.

It was true. Sailor Mercury and Sailor Mars were facing off against - - a demon. An oni, to be precise. She was gorgeous, with a round, full figure draped in the tiniest of tiger skin across her chest and hips, her dainty feet covered in boots of the same. Tiny horns jutted out from a head covered in hair spun from gold and silk that cascaded down her creamy back. She smirked confidently at the two senshi with the reddest, fullest lips Kenji had ever seen. Only the memory of Ikuko shook him out of his desire to gaze at her forever.

"You senshi can't possibly hope to win against one such as I!" the oni proclaimed with an air of superiority. Then she brought her hand up to her mouth and laughed into the back of it. For a moment, Kenji thought of the anime Usagi and Shingo used to devour when they were young. Then he brought his camera up and began snapping pictures. He prayed the light would hold out enough to get some usable shots. A flash would betray his position and might bring the demon's wrath down on him.

"We'll see about that," Mercury replied sternly. "Mercury! Aqua Rhapsody!"

A gusher of water shot out at the oni, flash freezing upon impact with the ground. The oni had evaded the blast with veteran skill.

"You simply must do better than that!" taunted the demon.

"Mars!" Sailor Mars shouted. "Flame Sniper!"

From the fiery bow in the senshi's hands, a barrage of flaming arrows launched at the oni. Each one seemed destined to pierce the demon and each one was avoided. The oni pirouetted and came to a stop.

"Clearly you two are no challenge for me!" the oni proclaimed. "Perhaps you should call your leader, the great Sailor Moon!"

Another arrow exploded into the ground just at the oni's feet, causing her to jump back.

"Hey, watch it!" snarled the oni.

"There's no need to bother SAILOR MOON!" Mars growled. "You're JUST AN ONI!"

"Can 'just an oni' do this?" the oni countered and waved her hands at the two senshi.

For a moment, nothing happened. Mars and Mercury looked at each other, puzzled. Then Mercury doubled over.

"Oh!" she gasped. "It must be demon magic! I feel - - so dizzy . . ." And she sank to one knee. Then Mars stepped in front of her.

"Demon magic can't take out someone who has had the spiritual training I have," Mars proclaimed, producing one of her wards. "Prepare yourself, demon."

In a blur of motion, Mars had one of her wards pressed to her head, charged and then flung. It rocketed toward the oni before the creature could move. The ward struck, plastering itself across the oni's face, its momentum bowling the creature over onto its back. While the oni struggled in the dirt with the ward, Mars and Mercury ran up.

"What do we do now?" Mercury asked.

"Um," Mars began. "Uh, we'll, uh, have to take her to - - um, a place where I can properly bind her demon spirit! Pick her up."

Mercury and Mars, each one on an end of the now rigid oni, picked her up and carried her out of sight. As they left, Mercury surreptitiously glanced over her shoulder and spotted Kenji Tsukino leaving.

"We're clear," she said and they set the oni down.

"Mars, that hurt!" bellowed the oni.

"Good! It's what you get for padding your part!" Mars snapped back. The oni peeled the ward off as the Disguise Pen transformation faded and she became Sailor Moon again. "If your father believed that drivel you were spouting, it'll be a miracle."

Sailor Moon gave Mars a quick look at her tongue, then turned to Mercury. "Do you think it worked? Daddy needs this."

"It depends on how good a photographer he is," Mercury replied, then looked up at the darkening sky, "and how well his film performs in low light."

"Then there's nothing to worry about," Sailor Moon proclaimed. "Daddy is the best photographer ever. And I'm going to run right out and buy twenty copies of Tokyo Shimbun tomorrow morning."

"Good. You can give me one," Mars smiled as the three shifted to their civilian identities. "I want to see if your dad got my good side."

"I don't think you have a good side, Rei," jabbed Usagi.

"At least I don't need a Disguise Pen to look presentable," Rei shot back.

The raspberry echoed through the construction site.

* * *

The sound of the key in the lock stirred Ikuko Tsukino from her chair. She glanced at the clock and saw it was after nine p.m. Entering the hall, she met her husband, Kenji, as he doffed his shoes.

"How did it go?" she asked, trying not to sound anxious.

"The pictures sold," Kenji said unenthusiastically. "I knew they would. Action shots of the Senshi are the closest thing to a guaranteed sale there is. And I seem to have gotten an exclusive." He went into the living room and sank into a chair. Ikuko stared after him, puzzled.

"Then what's wrong?" Ikuko inquired.

Kenji gave her a guilty look. "Now I've got to do it again," he sighed. "The money from these shots will pay the bills for the month. But what about next month? Am I going to get another 'lucky tip' like I did this time?"

"I think it could happen," Ikuko offered, suspecting that Usagi had arranged this all since she knew her daughter was Sailor Moon.

"I can't depend on that, Ikuko," Kenji replied. "And I'm not sure I want to. I'm not sure this is what I want to do with the rest of my life. The pressure, the competition, the uncertainty, it all seems like too much sometimes."

"Kenji, I know you can do it," Ikuko said, sitting on the arm of the chair and folding her husband's head into her breast. "But if you don't want to do this, then stop. Don't feel you have to do something you hate because you're obligated to support me. You can find something you like doing. I have confidence in you. And if money does become a concern, I can get a job. It's not like I have children to raise anymore. I just don't want to see you destroy yourself doing something you hate out of a misplaced sense of obligation."

Kenji sighed, but it seemed to Ikuko like a sigh of relief more than anything.

"Thank you, dear," he whispered, rubbing his hand on her back. "I'll keep up with it a little while longer." He patted her. "But I will start looking around again for something else. As long as you're with me, I guess I can't help but succeed."

* * *

The next day found Haruka and Michiru in Michiru's studio.

"I'm kind of surprised you haven't asked me to pose for you before," Haruka stated as she reclined in a chair. She was dressed casually, in beige slacks and a dark polo shirt. Michiru sat twelve feet from her, sketching Haruka on a canvas in pencil. A copy of Tokyo Shimbun with pictures of the Sailor Senshi in action against an oni covered the front page.

"I never thought you could sit still long enough," Michiru quipped as she concentrated on her sketching.

"I can sit still," Haruka responded. "If I have incentive."

"And what would you consider incentive?" Michiru asked, suspecting the answer she'd get.

"Paint topless," Haruka said. Michiru responded with a derisive laugh. Haruka shrugged. "I thought I'd take a shot. Those shorts you're wearing are almost good enough."

"Don't leer," Michiru told her. "It's not the expression I want to paint."

"Why are you doing this anyway?" Haruka asked. "I thought you didn't like doing portraits."

Michiru stopped. She suddenly looked like she'd seen a ghost. "I don't know. It's just - - remember a year or so ago, when we fought those aliens who were possessing people?"

"I was trying," Haruka scowled. "Thanks for reminding me."

"Ever since then, I've had this vague feeling," Michiru related, her pencil idle, "of wanting - - no, needing to get you down on canvas. To show the world the inner incandescence of Haruka Tenoh."

The pair looked at each other and a question of a memory that wasn't there seemed to hover between them.

"What a load of crap," smirked Haruka.

"You're lucky you're not in kicking distance," Michiru shot back with a wry smile.

Just then the door bell sounded. Haruka got up and answered it. Michiru was closely behind her.

"Haruka Tenoh?" asked one of the two men at the door. The dark suits and official demeanor instantly told Haruka they were police.

"Yeah," Haruka grunted.

"We'd like to ask you a few questions concerning an on-going investigation. May we come in?" the lead detective asked.

"What investigation?" Haruka asked suspiciously.

"A complaint has been filed against one Akinori Masumoto by one Gert Tenoh," the detective outlined. "Gert Tenoh is your father, correct?"

"Yeah. What did Masumoto do?" Haruka asked. Everyone could see the tension building in the lanky woman.

"Then you're familiar with Masumoto?" the detective inquired.

"We've met."

"Have you witnessed any violent acts that Masumoto committed against any member of your family? Any threats?"

"He slapped my sister, Junko, around once - - that I know of," Haruka recalled.

"You witnessed this?"

"I saw the black eye. Junko told me he did it. Is he bothering her again?"

"Tenoh-San has complained about harassing phone calls. He also alleges that young Masumoto vandalized his home." Michiru could tell the naked fury welling in her mate. "So you haven't witnessed any overt aggressive acts or threats made by Masumoto?"

"No," Haruka replied in clipped fashion, her lips drawn tight over her mouth.

"Do you think he's capable of such things?"

"He's already battered Junko. She wouldn't lie about that," Haruka told them. "The kid strikes me as really possessive - - the type who might resort to violence or intimidation to hold on to what he wants. I've met the type a few times in my life. He reminds me of those guys."

"I see," the detective nodded. "Thank you for your time, Tenoh-San. Is there a phone number we can reach you at if we need to ask anything else?"

Michiru volunteered their phone number. The detectives bowed and left. She turned to Haruka.

"Maybe I need to pay this little punk a visit," rumbled Haruka. Michiru began massaging her shoulders.

"May I make a suggestion?" Michiru ventured. "When you do - - act with your head and not your anger. Seeking to protect Junko is an admirable thing. Seeking vengeance can lead to sorrow."

"Now you sound like Dumpling," Haruka scowled.

"I never said she was wrong ALL the time," Michiru countered. "And I think this may be one of those times where it would be wise to consider what she always says."

Haruka struggled to listen.

"Don't throw away all the good you've achieved in your life on a single rash act motivated by anger," Michiru warned.

"Yeah," Haruka sighed.

"Want me to come with you?" Michiru asked.

"Maybe you better," Haruka whispered. "Just to have my back."

In the blue Fiat, Haruka cruised the area around the high school. School was just letting out. Hundreds of teens flooded the area. Haruka parked the Fiat and she and Michiru scanned the crowd, looking for Akinori. It seemed to be a hopeless quest, given the mass of young people emerging from the school. The area around the school was a sea of black jackets and amber and white tunics. But Haruka and Michiru both were used to sifting through crowds for the person they wanted. To them, it was as routine as breathing.

At length, Haruka spotted Junko. She was with two of her friends and, by their body language, the cluster seemed as much for defense as for friendship. Junko seemed irritated, edgy, and the other two girls would glance around periodically. Junko didn't spot the Fiat and Haruka didn't signal her. Instead her glance moved behind Junko to see if anyone was trailing her.

After a few moments, Haruka's assumption was rewarded. Following - - one might even say stalking - - Junko was Akinori. His smoldering gaze was riveted on Junko's back. The teen was oblivious to everything around him.

"Haruka," Michiru began.

"I see him," Haruka replied. The Fiat fired to life and eased into the street.

Circling the block, the Fiat crept into an alley between two buildings. It was little more than an access path for trash collection trucks. The pair sat in the Fiat for a few moments. As Haruka expected, Junko and her two friends passed across the mouth of the alley. She knew this was Junko's habitual route home. Junko was too preoccupied with her thoughts to notice the Fiat and her "guardians" didn't recognize it. After she passed, Haruka emerged from the Fiat and walked up to the edge of the mouth of the alley. There Haruka casually waited, leaning against the building. She felt Michiru ease up behind her.

Akinori came into view. His gaze was still fixed ahead of him. With the reflexes of a cobra, Haruka's hand shot out, seized the boy by his collar, jerked him into the alley and up against the wall between her and Michiru. Akinori looked up at Haruka with genuine surprise. Michiru turned to watch down the alley for potential trouble.

"T-Tenoh-San?" Aki gasped.

"We need to talk," Haruka rumbled. A stray shaft of light caught the earring in her left ear and twinkled.

"If you're going to warn me to stop seeing Junko . . ." Aki began belligerently. Haruka's right hand shot out, but only pressed against the wall above the left side of Aki's head.

"Junko doesn't want anything to do with you anymore," Haruka said firmly.

"That's not true!" Aki shot back. "I love her and I can make her love me again!"

"How? You going to beat it into her?" scowled Haruka.

"That was an accident! I'm not a monster!"

"You're a sniveling little coward who things he can get everything he wants by force if he has to," Haruka told him, her words dripping with contempt. "You're not fit company for any human being - - certainly not for my kid sister!"

"You hate me! You all hate me!" bellowed Aki. "You've all poisoned Junko's mind against me!"

Haruka's left arm shot out and in an eye blink her forearm was pressed across Aki's throat. The youth, pinned to the wall, struggled as he gurgled uncomfortably. Haruka merely leaned in.

"Right now I could do anything to you," Haruka hissed, "and you couldn't stop me. I know fourteen ways to hurt you that you'll never forget. A few of them are permanent. You remember that. And you stay away from Junko."

The touch of Michiru's hand on Haruka's shoulder brought her back from the brink her rage was driving her toward. She looked into the youth's eyes and saw his fear. And it was enough. Haruka leaned back and released her hold on the boy. Aki bent over, coughing as he rubbed his throat. Haruka merely turned and headed back to the Fiat. After Michiru got in, Haruka started the car and pulled out of the alley. As the car passed Aki, she and the boy exchanged cold glances.

"I suppose subtlety is lost on youth," Michiru commented dryly.

"Did you want me to say 'please'?" Haruka snapped. "He got the message."

"I'm certain he did," Michiru replied. "The question now is will it make him back off, or make him more determined to get what he wants?"

"If he still won't stop harassing her, I can get even more physical," Haruka said with narrow, deadly eyes.

"And how does that make you any different from him?"

Haruka shot her mate an angry glance.

"Haruka," Michiru inquired, "just how far are you willing to go?"

"As far as it takes," she answered. "I know I have a lot, so I have a lot to risk. But I'd sacrifice it all to protect you. Well, Junko falls in that category now, too. Any time he wants to stop this, I'll drop it on my end. But I'm ready to go the limit if he is. He's not going to hurt Junko anymore."

Pride swelled in Michiru, but it was pride mixed with a deep foreboding of what might come from a seemingly inevitable war.

Continued in Chapter 8


	8. Hostage

BEHIND THE MASK

Chapter 8: "Hostage"

A Sailor Moon fanfic

By Bill K.

Once again Makoto was at the pre-school to pick up her daughter, and once again her pace was slowed by the tentative gait of her son, Ichiro. She was seeing progress in the child, but he was at that awkward stage where he was getting too big to carry, yet he was still very shaky on his feet. Makoto found herself wishing the boy would hurry up and learn to walk. Akiko had taken to walking right off.

"Yeah, it gave her a chance to get into more mischief," Makoto mumbled to herself with a wry smile.

The sliding door of the pre-school opened. Ichiro staggered through and nearly face-planted on the carpet. Only holding his mother's hand kept him upright.

"How long has he been walking?" one of the associates asked.

"A month," Makoto replied. "Akiko was walking at eight months. She was climbing at fifteen."

"Somehow I can believe that," the associate said and Makoto saw that the staff was just beginning to learn what a precocious handful Akiko could be. "Well your son seems to be right on schedule. Planning on having any more?"

"Maybe when Akiko's in college," quipped Makoto. A second associate entered the reception area.

"Mrs. Ikegami?" the second woman said with some surprise. "Your husband picked Akiko up about fifteen minutes ago."

"He did? That's odd. San-San works until five," mused Makoto. "Maybe he got off work early."

Makoto pulled out her cell phone and punched in the number for her husband's cell phone. After three rings, she heard him pick up.

"San-San, did you get off work early?" Makoto asked.

"No, Babe," he replied. Makoto felt her throat dry up.

"Isn't Akiko with you?" she queried.

"No. I'm still at the dock. Isn't she at the pre-school?"

Makoto felt her body ice over with a sick dread.

"Call the police!" Makoto gasped to the two care workers of Akiko's pre-school. "Call them now!"

"You mean," one of the workers, a petite woman with straight black hair, the horror of what had occurred just now dawning on her, "that man wasn't your husband?"

But Makoto had already turned her back to them. Ichiro looked up at his mother, her naked anxiety transmitting to him and making the boy just as anxious. He watched her engage the stud on her watch, turning it into a senshi communicator. Makoto hit general send.

"Hello, this is The Flowering Lotus Pre-School Academy!" the other worker spoke frantically into the phone. "Please send the police! I-I think we've had a child abduction!"

"I thought," the straight haired woman whispered, her demeanor sick with guilt, "he seemed so convincing."

"Mako-Chan?" Usagi responded on the communicator. Rei's picture popped up next to her and the readout indicated Ami was on line as well. "What's wrong?"

"Guys, can you meet me at the apartment!" Makoto hissed so the academy workers couldn't hear her. "It's an emergency! Something's happened to Akiko!"

Audible gasps came from the communicator. Makoto was about to say more, but the straight haired worker came over and she had to cut off the communication.

"M-Mrs. Ikegami," the horrified woman said to her, her body language cringing and broken. "I-I am so sorry for this! I thought - - he said he was her - - oh, I am so sorry!"

Makoto wanted to forgive her, but the words wouldn't come. Maybe later they could - - when she had Akiko back. Just then there was a tug at her slacks. Ichiro was at her side, looking up.

"Mommy? 'Neechan?" Ichiro asked, his face colored with anxiety. And for a moment Makoto almost lost it. Instead she sank to one knee and folded Ichiro securely in her arms.

"Don't worry, Ichiro honey," she cooed, trying to reassure him. "We'll find her." In the background, the phone was ringing. Makoto clung to her son, drawing as much strength from him as she was giving to him.

"Mrs. Ikegami?" the other academy worker said, holding out the phone. "A call for you."

Makoto sprang up and raced to the phone. It could be Sanjuro. It could be one of the senshi. It could be one of a hundred people who might have found Akiko and learned enough from her to call here. She seized the phone and pressed it to her ear.

"Hello? This is Makoto Ikegami!" she said frantically.

"We have your daughter," the voice said and the strength seemed to wash out of Makoto's long frame. "Don't talk to the police. It wouldn't be a good idea. And I suggest you get your son to safety as soon as you can."

"Where is she?" Makoto screamed. "Is she all right?"

But the phone was dead. Dropping it onto the desk, Makoto rushed over to Ichiro. Scooping him up, she headed for the door.

There she was met by two uniformed Tokyo Metro police officers.

* * *

The phone rang in the Tenoh household. Junko felt herself wince. The phone rang a lot these days and it usually was the same person. If her father answered, she'd hear a lot of angry yelling, which wasn't good for her father's blood pressure. If her mother answered, she'd just slam the phone down on Aki and it would ring again moments later. She didn't want anybody to answer it. She just wanted it to stop, for Aki to just go away and never bother her again. He followed her all over school. He followed her home. Nobody asked her out anymore. Gen Nishita had asked her a few days ago and he ended up with a broken arm and a battered face. Nobody could prove who did it, but everybody knew. And after that, the boys would avoid her. If only . . .

"Junko!" her father called up from downstairs. "Phone for you." He paused for a moment. "It's - - Haruka."

Bouncing out of her bed, history book falling to the floor, Junko headed for the upstairs extension.

"I got it!" she called and waited for her father to hang up downstairs. "Haruka? What's up?"

"Why didn't you tell me that boy was still bothering you?" she heard Haruka asked. Junko could tell by her sister's tone that the woman wasn't happy.

"How did you find out?"

"I got a visit from the cops today," Haruka answered. "They wanted to hear what I knew about the situation. Obviously I didn't know as much as they did."

"I didn't want you involved, Haruka," Junko explained. "It's my problem."

"But you could involve the police?"

"That was Dad," Junko said.

"Good for him. At least somebody there is being sensible."

"Haruka, I can handle it!" snapped Junko.

"He's vandalizing your house! Harassing you! That's not something you handle! And you can't even tell me! I've got to hear it from the cops!"

"Well what were you going to do? Threaten him?" Junko fired back.

Haruka didn't respond immediately.

"You didn't! Haruka, you could get in trouble for that!" Junko wailed.

"It's better than seeing you hurt," Haruka told her, "or worse. Guys like these can be the 'if I can't have you, no one will' types. Stopping that is more important than a racing career."

"It's not going to get that far," Junko argued.

"Let's hope you're right," Haruka replied. "But keep your guard up, just in case. And let me know if you have more problems with this boy. I've - - got a few more resources than you think I do." There was a pregnant pause. "See you, kid - - Junko."

Haruka hung up the phone, exhaled with frustration, and then ambled over to the Fiat. Michiru was waiting inside.

"How did it go?" Michiru asked as Haruka climbed into the driver's seat.

"She didn't want me involved. She was afraid I'd do something to damage my career."

"Imagine that," Michiru replied with a wry smile.

"Dumb kid," Haruka muttered.

"Sounds more noble than dumb," Michiru responded. "If that's the only reason."

"What other reason could she have?" frowned Haruka.

"Haruka, she's seventeen. She respects you a great deal, and she values your respect highly," Michiru outlined. "And she might be afraid that you'll lose respect for her because she's a victim of abuse."

"That's stupid!" Haruka grumbled. In frustration, she hit the headrest behind her with the back of her head.

"It's a complex world we live in, Haruka," Michiru said, stroking her lover's arm. "And the shades of gray often have shades of their own. I hope you weren't too hard on her. She needs support right now to see her through this just as much as she needs your street smarts and 'vaunted fighting prowess'."

Haruka just stared ahead, not wanting to acknowledge the wisdom of her mate's words. Michiru snuggled in closer.

"Come on," Michiru prodded. "Let's go home. Maybe I can find a way to soothe your troubled brow."

The Fiat started and rolled out into evening traffic.

* * *

"Nothing happened?" one of the officers asked. Makoto willed herself to be firm.

"No, it was," she began, forcing the lie out, "all a misunderstanding. I'm sorry for dragging you out here for nothing."

"That's all right, Ma'am," the other officer said. "Who was the second phone call from?"

"That's," Makoto began quickly, then reined up, "personal. Excuse me, please. I have to get my son home and get dinner ready for my family."

"You're certain everything is all right?" the first officer persisted. The two school workers were staring at Makoto in disbelief.

"Yes," Makoto said. She gathered Ichiro up quickly and was out the door before anyone could stop her.

As she hurried down the street to her apartment, dozens of dread scenarios whirled through Makoto's mind. Images of Akiko appeared, the girl scared and helpless, abused, menaced by shadowy figures and crying out for her. Tears trickled down Makoto's cheeks as she fought to stay in control. What did they want, she wondered. Money? She and Sanjuro didn't have anything. They were struggling to stay ahead in an economy that was beginning to sink into uncertainty. But what else could they want?

Within sight of her apartment building, Makoto heard her cell phone go off. Digging it out of her purse, she opened it while balancing Ichiro on her hip.

"Hello?" she asked.

"Mrs. Ikegami?" the voice on the phone asked. It was the same voice as before. "Dropped off your son yet?"

"What do you want from me? Why did you take Akiko?" Makoto demanded.

"I'm going to give you an address," the voice told her. "You be at that address at seven tonight - - alone. We see anything we don't like and you never see your girl again."

"Look, what's this all about? What do you want?" Makoto asked.

"We just want to discuss a job with Sailor Jupiter."

Makoto froze. The world seemed to swirl around her.

Rushing up to her apartment, Makoto frantically thought of what she was going to tell Sanjuro. She didn't want to lie to him, but she didn't know if she could tell him the truth. He'd want to involve himself and she couldn't risk it. They said come alone. Ichiro was clinging to her, his unspoken terror born in him from his observations of his mother. Makoto was oblivious to it. She was busy mentally calculating how to put off her husband, get to the address by seven and find some way to get her daughter back safe and unhurt.

"Mako-Chan?" Usagi's voice cut through her preoccupation. As she turned the corner from the elevator to her apartment, she saw Usagi, Ami and Rei waiting at the door for her. She had called them, after all. Now, too late, she remembered. As she hurried up, the woman wondered what she was going to tell them now. Already she noticed Ami staring at her, mentally calculating what might be wrong just from body language or her expression or a hundred ways a genius like Ami could deduce something. And Rei - - Makoto didn't even dare look at Rei.

"I'm sorry for dragging you three down here," Makoto said, wedging toward the door with Ichiro in one hand, fumbling for her keys with the other. "Something really important has come up. I know it's imposing, but could you three watch Ichiro for me - - until San-San gets home?"

"Of course, Mako-Chan," Usagi replied kindly, but sensing an undercurrent of anxiety from her friend that she didn't understand. "I love being with Ichiro."

"You mentioned earlier that something had happened to Akiko," Ami queried cautiously. "Is she injured?"

"No!" Makoto responded too quickly. "It's just - - it needs to be taken care of now."

"She's been abducted!" Rei gasped. The strength went out of Makoto and she sagged against the door, her head pressed against it. The woman's eyes closed and her anxiety shot up.

"I'm sorry if I saw something I shouldn't have, Makoto," Rei added awkwardly.

"Akiko's been abducted?" Usagi cried.

"We'll talk about it inside," Makoto said finally. She opened the door and ushered everybody in.

Ichiro sat on the sofa between Makoto and Usagi. Rei and Ami took chairs. They all leaned in while Makoto tried to gather herself. Finally she explained everything that had happened.

"And that's why I had to lie to the police," Makoto finished. "He said don't involve them."

"That's a ploy to keep him at the advantage," Ami explained. "Logically, involving the police would . . ."

"No!" Makoto replied firmly. "I can't take the risk. I can't call them. And none of you can, either. Promise me!"

She stared at her three friends and could see they didn't want to agree. But she didn't back down and eventually they acquiesced.

"Did the kidnapper indicate any possible motive for his actions?" Ami asked, her compassion for Makoto fighting for control with her analytical mind.

"They're using Akiko to force me to do something for them," Makoto whispered, her fatigue getting the better of her. "He found out somehow that I'm Sailor Jupiter."

"That would follow," Ami nodded. Already she had a satellite picture of the neighborhood around the address Makoto had been given displayed on her cell phone. "The address he gave you is quite isolated."

"It's possible that he has some vendetta against Sailor Jupiter," suggested Rei. "He wants to get you in an isolated spot and take you out."

"It's a chance I'll have to take," Makoto replied resolutely.

"A chance WE'LL have to take," Usagi corrected her. Makoto looked at her strangely. "You didn't think we were going to let you face this alone, did you?"

"Yeah, between the four of us, we can . . ." Rei began.

"No!" Makoto stated firmly. "He said come alone."

"Makoto, that puts you at great risk," Ami warned her.

"I don't care! I'll do what I have to do to get Akiko back safe!

The group looked at her helplessly. Each one understood what Makoto was saying and why, but none of them wanted to let her face the risk alone.

"I know you're just trying to be my friends," Makoto croaked out. "I really appreciate it. I was blessed the day I met you three - - and Blondie, too - - and I am grateful. But I have to do this alone. I can't take the chance of them hurting Akiko." Nervously Makoto glanced at her watch. "I-I better go. I can't be late."

"I could give you some sort of monitor," Ami began. Makoto shook her head. "At least, keep your communicator channel open - - so I can monitor things. Please?"

Makoto sighed. "All right, Ames. But don't follow me! If they get a whiff of anything they don't like, they'll take it out on Akiko. I won't risk that."

Ami nodded. Makoto hurried out the door. Once she was gone, Ami summoned her henshin stick and transformed to Sailor Mercury. The transformation caused Ichiro's eyes to pop with wonder.

"You're going to follow her anyway, aren't you?" Rei grinned, while Usagi seemed astonished.

"I can use my computer to track her communicator signal as well as monitor its broadcast," Mercury replied. "That will allow me to follow her at a far enough distance to safely be out of the vision of anyone watching for police."

"But Mako-Chan said . . ." Usagi began to protest.

"Makoto's too scared to think straight," Rei cut her off.

"At the very least, we can provide her with support if necessary," Mercury continued the thought while Rei transformed. "And if events coincide in a fortunate manner, we may be able to discover where Akiko is being held and rescue her."

Usagi was about to transform, but Mars stopped her.

"Somebody has to stay with Ichiro," Mars told her. "And somebody has to break the news to Sanjuro when he gets home. And you're better at that than we are."

Usagi nodded. The two senshi left cautiously, so as not to be seen. Usagi sat back down on the sofa next to Ichiro. The boy looked up to her.

"Anny Sagi?" he inquired, confused and awash in trepidation. "Neechan?"

Usagi could only hug the child. Her tears had robbed her of her voice.

Continued in Chapter 9


	9. Between Hell And Damnation

BEHIND THE MASK

Chapter 9: "Between Hell And Damnation"

A Sailor Moon fanfic

By Bill K.

Even Tokyo had its seedy side. And even crowding 12.3 million people into an area 2187 square kilometers, there were areas of the city where one could go and not be seen. And if one was observed in these areas, the observing parties weren't often inclined to act on what they saw.

Makoto passed from street light to street light as she hurriedly walked to her destination. It was late October and the days were shorter. There was still enough light to see, but not a lot she wanted to see. Her senshi-honed instincts were up and ready to report anything she might see that was amiss. But they were counterbalanced by the gnawing fear eating away at her courage and resolve, the fear that she would find her little girl dead.

Or that she'd never find her at all.

The address was the dark confines of an empty storefront. Makoto stopped in front of the door. She looked around, found nothing. Maybe her contact was inside. She was about to knock, but stopped. What if someone answered who wasn't involved? Would it scare the real kidnapper away?

"Oh, I can't stand this indecision!" Makoto whispered angrily. "What do I do? What?" Anxiously she looked around again. Makoto glanced at her watch. It was after seven. "Did something scare him off?"

When her cell phone went off, Makoto jumped. She fished it out of her purse and opened it.

"Mrs. Ikegami?" the voice said.

"I'm here," she replied, a tremor in her voice. "Right where you told me to be."

"I can see that," the voice said. Makoto looked around. "You can't see me. Now listen carefully. Do this job right and your daughter goes free. That's simple enough, isn't it?"

"What job?"

"Kukoro Ishikawa," the voice explained. "Find him - - and kill him."

* * *

Sailor Mercury and Sailor Mars stood a block away from where Makoto was. They were around the corner of a building, standing on a perpendicular street to Makoto's position, to shield their presence from any observers. Mars peered over Mercury's shoulder and looked at the display on Mercury's computer. On one display, Makoto's position was indicated on a map. There was a second display conducting a sensor sweep of the area, while a third display had vocal patterns being recorded from the transmissions from Makoto's senshi communicator.

"For a 'deserted area', there sure are a lot of blips on that display," Mars commented. The sensor display had picked up thirty-two people in a four block radius from their position. Twenty-four blips were concentrated in one building, probably a bar or restaurant. "Any chance we're being observed?"

"None," Mercury told her. "My scan shows no entities with a possible view of our current position."

"That's good," Mars nodded. She glanced at the display again. "Can you tell how many of them are armed?"

Mercury touched a button on the keyboard. "I'm picking up fifteen subjects with metallic objects that could be weaponry," she reported. "Three combine metal and chemical components for explosive powder. They're probably guns."

"Any of them close to Makoto?"

"Two," Mercury said, pointing to a blip 120 feet from her and another 155 feet on her opposite side. "Both guns."

"Mrs. Ikegami?" a voice said over Makoto's communicator, monitored by Mercury's computer. The two senshi listened closely, though Mercury began typing on her keyboard as well.

"I'm here," Makoto replied, a tremor in her voice. "Right where you told me to be."

"I can see that," the voice said. "You can't see me. Now listen carefully. Do this job right and your daughter goes free. That's simple enough, isn't it?"

"What job?"

"Kukoro Ishikawa," the voice explained. "Find him - - and kill him."

Mars and Mercury looked at each other, aghast.

"Y-You can't be serious!" they heard Makoto respond. Mercury was typing again. "You expect me to-to murder someone?"

"That depends," the voice responded.

"On what?" Makoto gasped.

"On how much you value your daughter's life." And the phone disconnected.

"No good!" Mercury exclaimed and began running for Makoto's position. After a beat, Mars began to follow.

"What happened?" she demanded.

"I tried to triangulate on the cell phone transmission that Makoto was receiving," Mercury explained. She stopped at the corner and consulted her computer again. "There wasn't enough time to pinpoint the caller's position, but it was one of the two men on this street."

Mercury peered around the corner, Mars looking from behind her. On the near side, across from them, a figure was inside a closed electronics repair shop. There was no one else on the street except Makoto, which meant the other target was inside the building at the far end of the block, possibly observing her from a second floor.

"Which one is it?" Mars asked.

"Logically, the first suspect to move away is the most likely suspect," reasoned Mercury. "There is no reason to linger except to observe for possible surveillance on Makoto. His message has been delivered." Tense moments passed when nothing happened. Then Mercury exclaimed, "They're both moving! Perhaps they're both involved! Mars, I'll track the suspect at the end of the block! You apprehend the nearer one!"

With that, Mercury took off running down the street. As Mars moved to intercept the figure in the electronics shop, she noticed Makoto had spotted Mercury. Then her attention snapped to her quarry. She reached the back of the shop just in time to spot a shadowy figure emerging from a service alley behind the electronics shop. The figure spotted her advance and whirled. Metal caught the street light and glinted. It was an automatic pistol.

"Burning Mandala!" Mars called out. Fiery recreations of the sacred symbols sprang up around her hands, then shot at the shadowy figure. The mandala impacted with the gun. The figure dropped it instantly and, before he could charge or flee, the mandala surrounded him, igniting the sidewalk around him.

"OK! I give! You got me!" he cried, sinking to his knees and throwing up his arms. Mars charged through the mandala, oblivious to the flames that refused to touch her, and seized the man by his shirt.

"Where do you have Akiko?" Mars demanded.

"W-Who's Akiko?" the man exclaimed. Mars could see now he was just a former juvenile delinquent school tough who had graduated to crime.

"THE GIRL YOU HELPED KIDNAP!" Mars roared angrily, shaking him.

"I didn't! I didn't!" the man pleaded. "I just robbed the store! I didn't kidnap any girl! I didn't!"

Then Mars saw the bag laying next to him with video components sticking out. That, combined with what she could read in him, told her he was telling the truth. He had no connection to the abductors. Angrily she threw him down.

"The flames will die down when the police arrive," she said, as much for the flames as for his benefit. "Until then, don't move - - unless you want to be burned."

Returning to the street, Mars found Mercury walking back to her, followed by a dispirited Makoto. Mars ran up to them.

"Mine was just a burglar," Mars reported. "How about you?"

"I lost him," Mercury said. "There was a malfunctioning electric transformer on the next block. It threw up an electromagnetic field that momentarily blocked my computer's sensor array. By the time I got past it, he'd disappeared."

Makoto just walked past them, haunted and despairing. Mercury and Mars exchanged glances of remorse, then followed her back to the Ikegami apartment.

* * *

In a two room apartment above a pachinko parlor, a solitary man watched television. He was twenty-two and made his living by hustling for the pachinko parlor, plus the occasional burglary or as muscle for the local drug merchants when they made their buys. He'd long since given up his name of Takashi Iwamura for the simpler "Taki". Though he'd lived by his fists since he was thirteen, it was becoming harder and harder to do so. The local Yakuza had dismissed him as small time and it seemed to be a self-fulfilling prophecy. And what was worse, he and his off and on partner, Hojo, had run afoul of a local thug named Kukoro Ishikawa.

The lowbrow comedy he was watching had made a leering joke about a woman in a provocative bent over position and Taki snorted with laughter. That got the bundle in the corner moving again. Taki glanced over at the child, wrapped in duct tape and silenced with a strip across her mouth. That moment in the store when they'd accidentally met had been the moment that had changed Taki's life. It had been a lot of effort on his and Hojo's part: Following the mother, learning her habits, tracking down her name, residence and phone number, all while laying low and keeping out of both her sites and Iwamura's. But it was worth it. Things would be different now. He wouldn't be small time anymore.

The door opened and Taki reached for his gun. When the light hit the person's face and he saw it was Hojo, Taki relaxed.

"How did it go?" Taki asked.

"Just as planned," Hojo replied. The man slid into a chair at the table with Taki. Hojo wasn't as muscular as Taki was, but he was handsome - - the kind of handsome that turned women's heads, but which brought all the trouble women seemed to bring. He was lean and hard and could be trusted in a fight, but he was a talker and a seducer instead of a knuckle-breaker like Taki was. They made a good team, in spite of the trouble that followed Hojo. Taki liked Hojo - - and he liked the leftovers he usually got when Hojo was on the prowl for ladies.

"You think she'll do it?" Taki ventured.

"What choice does she have?" Hojo countered. Then he thought. "The big worry now is Ishikawa catching up to us before she can catch up to him. Maybe I better give her another call tomorrow and put some more pressure on her."

"You know," Taki began, "I've been thinking."

"Uh oh," smirked Hojo.

"If she does do this, who says we let the kid go?" Taki explained. "Just think of what we could do with our own Sailor Senshi under our control."

"That's always been your problem, Taki," Hojo shook his head. "It was a lucky break you being in that market and overhearing the kid tell everyone that her mom was Sailor Jupiter. But you've always ridden a lucky break too long and you end up losing everything you gained." Hojo waved his hand dismissively. "No sir, shaking down the Senshi is like juggling nitro-glycerin. One mistake and it blows up in your face. No, we take this lucky break, we play it just long enough to get us out of Ishikawa's sites and we bail. It's too risky to take it further than that."

"We wouldn't even be in this situation if you hadn't crossed Ishikawa," grumbled Taki.

"How did I know she was one of Ishikawa's girls?" Hojo retorted. "Just stick to the plan. It'll take care of things. It's our best shot."

And over in the corner, little Akiko grimaced at the discomfort in her arms and bobbed in the sea of guilt she felt. Her mother had warned her about betraying a secret. Now she was in this mess because of what she'd done, and her mother was in trouble, too. When she got the chance to go home again, Akiko swore the first thing she was going to say to her mother was how sorry she was.

And this time she'd mean it.

* * *

At the Ikegami apartment, Sanjuro sat in his normal spot on the sofa, bent forward and staring intently at nothing in particular. The massive man wrung his hands and grimaced at hidden thoughts of dire consequence. Standing in the doorway to the kitchen, Usagi watched him with a growing feeling of helplessness. One of the hardest things she'd had to do as an adult was to stand there and tell Sanjuro about Akiko's abduction. The range of emotions that cascaded over his face during the moments after she told him was astonishing. And now, it was like he was waiting for the worst.

Ichiro had finally gone to bed. The poor child kept asking about his mother and his sister over and over again. Nothing she told him could allay the child's fears. Finally a whispered lullaby, one that Usagi remembered her mother singing to her, put the child to rest. If only she could do that for Sanjuro.

"They'll find her, Sanjuro," Usagi said, bending in and putting her hand on the man's gigantic shoulder. "Mako-Chan won't let anything happen to her. And Ami and Rei are with her. Ami is the smartest person there is. She'll figure it out. And Rei is touched by the gods. Who better to have on your side than that?"

"I know," Sanjuro mumbled, still staring ahead. "But I just can't help being afraid. I can't help wondering if my little girl is scared and suffering while I sit here. I wish you hadn't promised her not to call the police."

"So do I," Usagi admitted. "But Mako-Chan wanted it this way." The woman began fighting with her own emotions. "How can someone be this cruel? To threaten a child in order to get what you want! I just can't conceive of such a thing!"

"After everything you've seen?" Sanjuro said softly, with an air of defeat. "I mean, you are Sailor Moon. I've read about your adventures. And Babe has told me about them. I would think someone like you would be used to this kind of behavior by now. This is new to me, but you . . .?"

"You never get used to it," Usagi replied. "I'll never get used to it, anyway. And I hope I never do. Maybe some day I won't have to."

The lock in the door rattled and the two occupants stiffened to alert. Makoto entered the apartment, followed by Ami and Rei.

"It could have worked!" Rei argued.

"You shouldn't have followed me," Makoto answered dully.

"Makoto, we had to try, for your safety as much as Akiko's," Ami added. "As of now, the abductors have every advantage over you. The more information we gather . . ."

"You shouldn't have followed me," Makoto said more emphatically, as if she was tired of saying it. She turned to Rei and Ami for more emphasis. "What if one of the kidnappers saw you? What if that means - - I never see Akiko again?"

Hands folded around Makoto's arms. She was physically turned around and came face to face with Sanjuro.

"Babe," he said, as much to calm her as get her attention, "what happened?"

And Makoto almost went limp. She was held up solely by her husband. Her head came to rest on his chest. Usagi and Rei looked on in sympathy, while Ami sat down and began working on her computer.

"They want me," Makoto began, helpless and emotionally spent, "San-San, they want me to - - kill someone."

"No!" Usagi exclaimed.

"As Sailor Jupiter," Makoto continued. "They want me to kill somebody."

"Kukoro Ishikawa," Ami said. Rei glanced over and saw the doctor had a police file on her computer screen. "Male, forty-four, last known address in Azabu-Juuban. He has six arrests since the age of fifteen, two convictions for Procurement of Prostitution and Felonious Assault. The other four arrests indicate he's probably associated with one of the Yakuza clans, probably as a lower level lieutenant in charge of either prostitution or one or more of the strip clubs." She looked up at the group. "His record also indicates a proclivity towards violence."

"So, not exactly the reincarnation of Buddha," Rei surmised. "He wouldn't be a great loss to the world - - particularly if it spared a life like Akiko's."

"Rei, you can't be serious?" Usagi intervened. "You can't trade one person's life to save another! Not unless it's your own!"

"This situation isn't that simple, Usagi," Rei replied in clipped form. She turned to Makoto. "I know you're thinking that if it comes down to a choice between Akiko and this Yakuza thug, you'll kill him without hesitation. I agree with that and I'll support you all the way. But don't think that this is the safest, quickest way to get Akiko back. If you do this under those circumstances, you're opening yourself and your family up for a lifetime of fear. Because they'll know that anytime they want to get Sailor Jupiter to do something for them, all they have to do is grab Akiko, or Ichiro or Sanjuro - - and you'll fall in line like a trained dog. Your family will never be safe again."

"Her thinking is sound, Makoto," Ami chimed in. "If it comes to a point where there's no other choice - - I'll understand whatever you choose to do. But at this moment, you have options. You don't have to choose yet. You can explore other ways of finding where she is. And you can let us help you."

Makoto turned to her husband. "San-San?"

"It's really hard to value the life of some gangster over my own daughter," Sanjuro said, his hand cupping the back of his wife's head. "I know I'd kill him to defend her. But if we can get her back without making that choice, we should do it." He stroked her brown hair. "Besides, there's no guarantee they're going to give her back even if you do kill this guy."

Makoto stared up at him, the anguish in her face reflected in his own. Then they heard a plaintive voice from the bedroom.

"Mommy?" Ichiro called again as Makoto entered the room. Their eyes met and she could see the boy was grateful and relieved to see her again. "Neechan?"

She brought the toddler out of the crib and hugged him to her.

"Not yet, Champ," she whispered, pressing him to her.

"Want Neechan," the child sobbed. That was the last straw. Makoto sat on the side of her bed, holding her son close to her, and they cried together in the cold night.

Continued in Chapter 10


	10. Falling Dominoes

BEHIND THE MASK

Chapter 10: "Falling Dominoes"

A Sailor Moon fanfic

By Bill K.

Michiru felt the bed rustle and turned over. Haruka was sitting on the side of the bed, pulling her jogging pants on. The drowsy artist reached over and gently ran her bent index finger down the woman's spine.

"Why do you want to leave a warm bed for the cold morning air?" Michiru murmured, part seductively and part plaintively.

"You knew I was crazy when you took up with me," Haruka responded, peeking over her shoulder at her mate.

"So I did," Michiru smiled. "I'll have breakfast ready for you by the time you're back. Any requests?"

"You in just an apron," Haruka smirked as she zipped up the jogging suit jacket.

"You ask for that EVERY morning," Michiru replied cynically.

"Well, you haven't given it to me yet," Haruka quipped. She bent in and kissed her love. Then she headed out.

"One of these days I may just," Michiru mumbled to herself, her mouth curled. "Just to see the look on your face."

Out in the cool, sharp morning air of November 1, Haruka jogged down the walk and turned left, as she always did. Her destination was the same: the track at the high school five blocks down. There she would do four hundred meters at top speed, rest for a few minutes, then do four hundred more. It was a chance for her to go all out again, and it was a chance to not have to think about the things that always seemed to trouble her. Short term worries like finances, racing strategy and how Junko was getting along despite having an ex-boyfriend harassing her. Long term worries like where she fit into the world, and would she some day lose Michiru and be left alone. Because when she ran, she was like a car engine, not thinking, not planning, just working to wring one more second of speed out of her body.

The instincts she'd honed, both as a senshi and as a teenage runaway in a world waiting to pounce on an unwary moment, alerted her to the car passing in the opposite direction. It was a dull moss green Mitsubishi compact, driving along the street at a standard pace, just like the four other cars that had already passed her since she started for the high school track. Nothing to worry about, her senses told her peripherally - - until the car began to slow. That was unusual enough to warrant a glance from Haruka, if only to see why the car slowed. Nothing was in the street. She glanced again at the driver. His face was hidden by the roof of the car. His left hand was on the wheel as his right hand was raising up.

And there was a gun in the right hand. It was a Firestorm FS22M .22 automatic pistol. It was a ten shot double action pistol and she was perhaps four meters away from the barrel. The driver was leveling the pistol directly at her.

All this information processed in Haruka's mind in the moment it took for the gun to aim at her. She was already diving behind a parked car when the first shot squeezed off. It whizzed over her right shoulder as she got behind the car. Huddled down behind the car, her henshin stick appearing in her hand, Haruka both heard and felt two more slugs pop into the car she was behind. The roar of the Mitsubishi's engine told her that her assailant had accelerated off. Haruka shot to her feet and saw the moss green Mitsubishi arrive at the end of the block and make a hasty left. As long as he was going away from their house and Michiru, Haruka decided to let him go for now. She glanced at the parked car and saw two bullet holes in the trunk. A higher caliber pistol might have sent the bullets through the trunk and into her.

Why this had happened was evident the moment Haruka had spotted Akinori's face as she dived for cover. So her threat to Akinori hadn't gotten him to back down. If anything, it had upped the ante. Haruka headed back home at a sprint. For it now occurred to her that she had to get over to Junko's house and protect her sister. Knowing the behavior pattern Akinori was exhibiting, Junko would become a target sooner or later.

* * *

Makoto came out into the living room of her apartment with a tray of breakfast food. Usagi's eyes lit up at the prospect of a meal. She had just awakened from dozing in her chair. Sanjuro was still asleep on the sofa where he had succumbed sometime earlier. Ichiro was still asleep in the bedroom after a restless night. Twice he'd awakened, plaintively calling out for his parents and Akiko. Ami was still at work on her computer. Rei was long gone, back to the shrine to do a fire reading.

"Did you get any sleep?" Makoto said softly to Ami, so as not to disturb Sanjuro. She set the tray down on the coffee table and Usagi helped herself to some rice.

"No," Ami said, replying as she worked through her amazing ability to multitask. "I suppose I should. I just couldn't seem to break away until I'd exhausted every avenue of inquiry."

"Find anything?" Usagi murmured through a mouth full of rice. Makoto sat on the chair arm next to Ami.

"On Akiko's location? No," Ami grimaced. They all felt Makoto sag without looking. "I'm sorry, Makoto. I just don't have enough information to form a sufficient hypothesis."

"You did your best, Ames," Makoto sighed. "We'll just have to hope that Rei can come up with something."

"Mako-Chan, you should eat something," Usagi urged.

"I'm not really hungry," Makoto said forlornly.

"Mako-Chan, you hardly slept last night and now you won't eat. You have to keep up your strength! You have to stay strong so you can be there when Akiko needs you!"

"She is correct, Makoto," Ami added. "Abusing your health because you feel helpless or guilty won't aid the situation." Makoto nodded listlessly, probably only because Ami said so, and brought up a piece of toast to nibble on. "I was successful in pinpointing the location of Kukoro Ishikawa. I have current locations for both his home and his 'business office'."

"Great," Makoto whimpered. "I know where my target is. Now all I have to do is kill him."

"No, Mako-Chan. You can't do it," Usagi told her.

"What other choice do I have?" Makoto replied. The anguish she felt was physically crushing her. "I can't let Akiko die."

"We haven't heard back from Rei yet," Usagi countered, gently grasping Makoto's hand with hers. "Rei's very good at finding out the impossible. And I'll go to Ishikawa-San as Sailor Moon. Maybe he knows who wants him dead and can help us find them. Don't give up hope, Mako-Chan. We'll find Akiko and we'll bring her back safely."

Makoto nodded, a timid smile creeping onto her face. Usagi beamed at her. Then they glanced at Ami. The woman had eased back into the chair for just a second and was now sound asleep.

"I guess I'm becoming boring," Usagi quipped. She and Makoto exchanged ironic looks

* * *

With the blue Fiat's engine already gunning in her ears, Michiru raced out the door and into the garage. She was barely in the car when Haruka pulled out. The car sped into traffic as she buckled her seat belt.

"You're certain Junko hasn't left for school yet?" she asked Haruka. It was a question with dual purposes: to ascertain information and to draw Haruka's attention away from the driving urge the woman had to get to her destination as fast as possible. That desire, she observed, was already making Haruka reckless.

"I'm not certain of anything right now!" Haruka replied. Only her expertise at driving kept the Fiat from ramming a car from behind that was stopped at an intersection.

"I'll call ahead and warn them," Michiru said. She brought her cell phone out and input the Tenoh's number. Ten rings went unanswered.

"No answer?" Haruka asked fearfully.

"No," Michiru told her reluctantly.

Arriving at the Tenoh house, the two women found the police and paramedics already there. Parking the Fiat in the middle of the street, Haruka jumped out and barreled to the house. A uniformed officer tried to stop her, but she easily pushed him aside and burst into the house. Inside, medics were treating both Gert and Himeko. Gert was on the floor, with several welts on his face and blood dribbling from his mouth. Himeko had an ugly bruise on the side of her face.

"Where's Junko?" Haruka whirled and demanded of the officer coming to retrieve her.

"Just who are you? This is a crime scene," the officer countered.

"Junko's my sister! Where is she?" Haruka demanded again.

"He took her," Himeko said. She was still loathe to speak to her estranged daughter, but more important matters overrode her feelings. "That boy, Akinori Masumoto. He had a gun. He showed up at the door maybe ten minutes ago. He hit Gert with it! He just kept hitting him with that gun! I tried to stop him and - - he hit me. He dragged Junko out of here. I couldn't stop him."

"I was afraid of this," a man said. He was behind Haruka and had entered unseen. "Masumoto was due in Family Court this morning on various charges. When he didn't show, his caseworker notified us. We were coming here to warn you, but I guess we were too late. I'm Fujiyama of the Tokyo Police. Tenoh-San, did you see which way he went?" Himeko shook her head.

"He's driving a 2006 moss green Mitsubishi," Haruka told the detective. "And he's armed with a .22 Firestorm automatic."

"How do you know this?" the detective asked.

"Because he took three shots at me about fifteen minutes ago," Haruka said as she headed for the door. Pausing at the door, she turned back to the detective. "Better get a broadcast out on that. And tell your people they better find him before I do."

Ignoring calls to wait, Haruka sprinted back up to the Fiat. Michiru had just enough time to get back in before Haruka pulled away. As she drove, Haruka related what happened in the Tenoh home.

"Just like we feared," Michiru grimaced. Her hand went up and her henshin stick appeared. After transforming into Sailor Neptune, she summoned the Deep Aqua Mirror. Catching Haruka's curious glance, she said, "They didn't have any idea where he's headed, do they? Do you?"

Haruka's confusion eased. "No," she replied and went about concentrating on her driving while Neptune set about trying to divine the answer they sought from the face of the Deep Aqua Mirror.

* * *

In his office far enough away from the gambling and prostitution parlors he controlled so that he wouldn't be easily implicated in their operation, Kukoro Ishikawa sat personally auditing the ledgers of the previous days receipts. While it was a dangerous thing to keep ledgers that could be used as evidence against him, Ishikawa had so much money coming in that ledgers were necessary to make sure he wasn't being cheated. For Kukoro Ishikawa did not abide someone else taking something he felt belonged to him.

He was a thin man of forty-four, with thinning black hair atop a square-ish head. Black rimmed glasses covered sunken eyes and a wide nose ran between sunken cheeks. He had a vaguely cadaverous look to him and when he frowned, he looked quite stern. When he smiled, though, he looked creepy and ominous, so he rarely smiled. His jacket was off and his tie was pulled out to allow his collar to be unbuttoned. There were guards outside the office and a .38 pistol in his desk drawer, so Ishikawa felt safe.

That's why he was so surprised when Sailor Moon walked into his office. The fact that she had to slide in through the door sideways to accommodate her costume's white wings only slightly detracted from his alarm.

"How did you get past my guards?" Ishikawa demanded. As he did, he closed the ledgers and slid them into his desk drawer, next to the pistol. He kept the desk drawer open.

"I apologize for that," Sailor Moon replied. She seemed genuinely disturbed by the event, which made her appearance even more alarming. "But I just had to talk to you, Ishikawa-San, and they were really being unreasonable. They're perfectly all right. They're just - - sleeping."

"I don't have anything to say to you," Ishikawa glowered. "If this is a bust, my lawyer will have me out in an hour."

"I'm not here to arrest you," Sailor Moon assured him. She considered her words for a moment. "Someone is trying to-to force - - someone I know - - to, well, to kill you. I just was wondering if you know who that person might be and where I could find him. So I could stop him."

Ishikawa stared at her, trying to ascertain if she was serious. A Sailor Senshi volunteering to protect someone like him? It had to be a trick.

"I don't need your help," he dismissed her brusquely. "Nobody's after me. I'm a respectable businessman and I don't have any enemies."

"Actually, you do," Sailor Moon persisted. "I want to stop this from happening. My friend is being forced to do something she doesn't want to do - - that nobody should be forced to do. And someone very dear to her is being threatened, and I want to stop that, too." She took a step forward, spreading her hands out. "But I want to stop this to save you, too. Because everyone deserves a chance to live. It doesn't matter who you are or what you've done. You have a life and you deserve that life. And I want to protect that. Please help me to do that."

The Yakuza lieutenant stared up at Sailor Moon. Her words and her presence were doing something to him. He had - - feelings. They were unfamiliar feelings, feelings of comfort, the warm comfort a person felt when he was with someone who loved him, who cherished and adored him. It was a safe feeling, a feeling that he could trust that person, that he was secure and wouldn't be betrayed. They were feelings he hadn't felt in a long, long time.

Ishikawa shook his head. No, it was a trick. People weren't like that.

"I'm a respectable businessman," he said again. "Nobody's after me. Now leave before I have you thrown out."

"Ohh!" Sailor Moon exclaimed and stamped her dainty foot on the floor. "Why do you people have to be this way!"

Ishikawa started to reach for his gun. That's when he saw a crystal emerge from Sailor Moon's chest. It was multi-faceted and glowed silver in the low light of the small office. His hand felt along the drawer until it found the gun, then tightened around the grip. Everything in the office was illuminated by a silver glow. For a moment, Sailor Moon seemed to be wearing different clothes, a strapless gown with wings.

Then he felt such an overwhelming warmth flood through his body. He thought he'd known bliss in his life, the bliss of seeing his fortune grow, the bliss of beautiful women on his arm despite his less than stellar looks, the bliss of power over people bigger and stronger than he was. But they were nothing compared to the bliss he felt now. Such utter joy and contentment flooded through his mind and body that it seemed unimaginable. Everything he had done in his life up to this point was meaningless. They were false thrills he'd deluded himself into believing were joyous. This, this was true bliss.

"I've got lots of enemies," he murmured, not really wanting to sully this blissful moment with thoughts of his previous life, but loathe to disappoint the person who had inspired such bliss within him. "Someone in my line makes enemies."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Sailor Moon told him and he could feel she meant it. "Does anyone stand out? Or did anything recently happen?"

Ishikawa shrugged. "There was this punk a few months ago. He made a play for one of my bar girls. Wouldn't listen when he got warned off, so I put the word out on him."

"That's terrible!" Sailor Moon gasped reflexively.

"I'm sorry," Ishikawa found himself mumbling. "It's the business. You have to do things like that to maintain control. I was just going to have him roughed up. Scare him off. But Ayuma tried to protect him. She got beaten. Lost an eye. Broke her jaw. She's worthless now. It cost me a perfectly good bar girl. So I had to do it. I had to put a hit on him."

Sailor Moon swallowed her indignation. "Who was the man? Do you know?"

"Name's Hojo," Ishikawa frowned, for memories of the incident were dulling the bliss he felt. "Hojo Fuijitsu - - he's a small time grifter. Real ladies man. Can't imagine he'd have the balls to try, though he's got the reason, I guess. Nobody else comes to mind. Unless it's a hit from a rival clan."

"Would they force an innocent person to do their work for them?"

"No," Ishikawa shook his head. "That's a small timer's play. Somebody who doesn't have any way to do it himself. It's probably Fuijitsu."

"Thank you," Sailor Moon said. The silver crystal withdrew and suddenly the euphoria Ishikawa felt was like ashes in his mouth. Sailor Moon bowed to him penitently. "I apologize for doing that to you," she offered. "It's just - - lives are at stake and I was running out of time." She turned to leave.

"Wait!" Ishikawa stopped her. "I - - don't go. I - - I can make it worth your while! Don't go, please!"

Sailor Moon smiled. "Dedicate your life to helping people instead of taking from them," she told him. "Then you'll have that feeling again. I promise."

And she awkwardly slid out of the door sideways. Ishikawa leaned back in his chair, the emptiness of his life surrounding him again. This time he noticed how empty it really was. It seemed to threaten to close in on him and crush him. But he wasn't sure that perhaps Sailor Moon's advice was too late for someone like him.

Outside on the street, back in her other identity so as not to attract undue attention, Usagi contacted Ami on her senshi communicator.

"I'll get to work tracking down this Hojo Fuijitsu," Ami said on the other end. "It's a substantial lead, Usagi. Good work. Was it very difficult to obtain?"

"I had to go farther than I wanted to go," Usagi frowned. "But we have to find Akiko, so I guess I don't have the luxury of feeling bad about it. Did Rei find anything?"

"Rei hasn't reported in yet," Ami grimaced. "I tried to contact her and received no response. Perhaps you should swing by the shrine and check in on her."

Usagi was already moving in that direction.

Continued in Chapter 11


	11. In The Hands Of Another

BEHIND THE MASK

Chapter 11: "In The Hands Of Another"

A Sailor Moon fanfic

By Bill K.

Junko sat in the passenger side of a moss green Mitsubishi compact. She was tense and anxious. Without moving her head, she peered to the side. Akinori was still driving. He was still glowering angrily.

He still held the pistol in his right hand.

"You don't have to glare at me like that," rumbled Aki, his soul choked with anger. "It's not like any of this is my fault."

"You pistol-whipped my dad!" Junko spat.

"He was trying to stop me!" argued Aki. "And he called the police on me!"

"You vandalized our house!" Junko retorted.

"He was trying to keep me from you! Just like that dyke sister of yours! Well I took care of him! Took care of her, too!"

"What did you do?" gasped Junko. Aki only smirked with dark triumph. "Damn it, what did you do?"

The side of the pistol impacted with Junko's jaw. Her head snapped around and her hand went up to cover the impact point. That's when she felt the muzzle of the weapon press to her temple.

"Don't use that tone with me," he warned. Junko sat there, fury quaking through every fiber of her young being. The only thing that kept her at bay was an underlying survival instinct that was able to hold her in check. But that infamous Tenoh rebelliousness just wouldn't let her be scared. She was too angry to be scared.

"So this is how it's going to be for the rest of time, huh?" Junko hissed through clenched teeth, holding still against the cold metal of the gun barrel. "Me being your personal punching bag?"

"I said I was sorry about that!" barked Aki. "I said it over and over again! But it never matters to you women! You just push and push, just keep pushing until you goad someone into making a mistake, and then you hold it over him forever! Can't you understand that I love you? Can't you?"

"No," Junko glared. "You don't do this to someone you love."

The gun fell away. Aki stared ahead, his internal frustration mounting.

"Why won't you see?" he cried. "Why won't you understand?"

"I understand," Junko replied with naked malice. "You want the world by your rules. Well the world doesn't work that way. And you can't use force to get it. You can't use force to make somebody love you. You can only use force to make them hate you. You . . ."

The gun barrel pressing to the side of Junko's cheek silenced her.

"SHUT UP!" Aki bellowed. "Fine, don't love me! I don't care anymore! I've got you and I'm going to keep you! And you're going to do what I SAY!" Junko could feel the rage quake through the arm holding the pistol to her as he drove. "Or else I'll make sure that nobody can have you. If I'm not good enough for you, then nobody will be!"

The car sped north on the freeway out of Tokyo. Junko wondered what their destination was. And she wondered if she'd live to see it.

* * *

In her sailor senshi form, Sailor Moon had much more endurance than she did as Usagi Chiba. But even with that endurance, running all the way from the dimly lit office of Kukoro Ishikawa to the Hikawa Shrine on Sendai Hill found the senshi taxed to the limit.

"It's wind resistance," puffed Sailor Moon, her sides aching and her body covered in perspiration. "That's it. It has to be wind resistance against those stupid wings!"

She looked up the long flight of steps leading up to the shrine and, for just a moment, wanted to sit down on the bottom step and cry. There were extra steps now that weren't there the last time she'd visited, she just knew it. But Sailor Moon remembered her concern for Rei and that gave her the strength to marshal her burning thighs up the steps. At the top, she was greeted by Akira, the man who shared priest duties at the shrine with Rei.

"Sailor Moon!" Akira gasped in surprise. The man was still as handsome and as gentle as she remembered, but Sailor Moon had other things on her mind besides admiring his looks. "You honor our shrine."

"Forgive me for being abrupt, Sensei!" panted Sailor Moon. "Could you tell me where Rei is?"

"Hino-Sensei?" Akira asked, noting Sailor Moon's familiarity with the priest. "I haven't seen her all morning. She went into her private meditation room last night. The door was still closed, so I didn't want to disturb . . ."

Sailor Moon took off like a shot for the shrine. At once recognizing her distress, Akira followed. He arrived inside just as Sailor Moon was flinging open the door. He heard her exclaim "Rei" in a voice of much animation and unease. When he looked in, Akira found Sailor Moon kneeling by an unconscious Rei Hino. Rei's face was flushed and her body was limp. Nearby, a small fire still burned in a cast iron fire pit located in the center of the room. From the residual smoke and the way the fire still burned, it must have been huge the previous night.

"Get some water for her, please!" Sailor Moon shouted. With that, Akira was off. Cradling Rei's head in her lap, Sailor Moon tried to brush the sweat from the woman's brow with her glove. Her fingers lightly stroked Rei's temple. "Rei, can you hear me? Please wake up!"

Akira returned with some water. When he entered, he saw Sailor Moon had a silvery glow. Shifting his gaze to Rei, he saw that the priest didn't seem as feverish as before. Padding over softly, he bent down and handed the glass of water to Sailor Moon.

"Is what you're doing helping her?" Akira asked.

"What I'm doing?" queried Sailor Moon and Akira realized she was unaware of the silver glow. Sailor Moon pressed the water to Rei's lips just as she was beginning to rouse. Rei took a few sips, then realized where she was. She looked up and found Sailor Moon and Akira staring down at her. The priest swallowed.

"I'm sorry," Rei rasped. "I must have fainted. I guess I was at that fire reading too long. Forgive me for scaring you both."

"Are you recovered, Hino-Sensei?" Akira asked.

"Yeah, I'll be all right. Thank you," Rei replied.

"Then I will leave you to visit with your friend. Please call me if I may be of assistance again," Akira said, retreating diplomatically. Rei nodded, but couldn't help wondering what Akira was making out of all this - - and how she would explain Sailor Moon being there.

"Are you sure you're all right?" Sailor Moon asked.

"Yes. I'm just dehydrated from the fire," Rei told her. "I wasn't getting anything and I guess I just stuck with it too long. I . . . well . . ."

"You want to find Akiko," Sailor Moon smiled. "We all do. I found out something. She may be with a man named Hojo Fuijitsu. Ami's running down his address now."

"No," Rei shook her head. "That's not the name I got."

"I thought the fire didn't tell you anything," Sailor Moon said.

"It didn't. But when I was unconscious, I saw her in a dream," Rei said, searching her memory. "She was with a man, all tied up in the corner of a room. I don't know where the room is, but the man lit a cigarette. And when he struck the match, the flame told me his name. It's," and she concentrated for a second, "Takashi Iwamura."

Instantly Sailor Moon brought up her communicator and pressed a button. Ami's picture appeared on the face.

"Ami? I'm at the shrine! Rei's got another name for us! Takashi Iwamura! She says Akiko is with him!" When she said Akiko's name, Makoto's face appeared in the picture over Ami's shoulder.

"Got it, Sailor Moon," Ami said, still in the Ikegami apartment. She began typing on her computer while Makoto and Sanjuro looked on anxiously. "I'm cross-referencing the Tokyo Police records now. Yes, Takashi Iwamura, alias 'Taki'. Two convictions for battery, one for driving under suspension. License suspended for seven moving violations in a three year . . ."

"His address, Ami!" hissed Makoto desperately.

"Yes, forgive me," Ami nodded. "Police records show his last known address as 1-20-4 Sakura Kanda, apartment 42. Did you get that, Sailor Moon?"

"Yes, Ami," Sailor Moon reported. But the rest of her reply was drowned out by the slam of the apartment door. Ami looked up and found Makoto was gone.

"Sailor Moon! Makoto is already en route! I suggest you get there as soon as possible, just in case!" Ami told them.

"Right!" Sailor Moon nodded. Immediately she noticed Rei struggling to her feet. "Rei, sit down! You're still woozy!"

"I'll make it. You may need me," Rei retorted.

"Do you think these men may be dangerous?"

"Maybe," Rei said, summoning her henshin stick. "And you may need me to pull Makoto off of them before she does something she'll regret."

* * *

The green Mitsubishi was out in the country now. Patches of woodland were broken up by long stretches of rice paddies and occasional houses. The road was just two lanes now and long rows of fence bracketed the road on either side for part of the way. Occasionally a car or truck passed them in the other direction, but there wasn't a great deal of traffic. Certainly not as much as there was in Tokyo by a long shot. Junko wondered where they were going, if even Akinori knew where they were going. They seemed to be just driving, trying to escape from somewhere rather than escape to somewhere.

All through the trip, Junko had been trying to figure out a way to escape Akinori. It's what she thought was her best option, rather than being a meek captive and submit. If this were a robbery, that would be the proper response. Akinori would get what he wanted and leave her alone. But this was different. She was what he wanted and meek submission would only accommodate him without obtaining her safety. The gun gave him too much advantage to fight. She had to find a way to escape. It was her best option.

And it's what Haruka would do. But Haruka was Sailor Uranus. Haruka had faced things like this before. She hadn't.

The car was traveling too fast for her to jump out. She didn't have anything she could use as a weapon against the gun. There was nothing that presented itself as an opportunity. She had to wait, wait for a chance to come and be ready to pounce on it. But Junko couldn't shake the sinking feeling in the back of her mind that the chance might not come in time, or that it had already come and gone and she had missed it. The indecision was making her sick with worry. Her eyes shifted warily to Akinori again. The youth was still driving with his left hand while holding the gun with his right. His attention seemed riveted ahead of them, like he was trying to find some nirvana where he would be safe from everyone. There was an aspect to him that resembled a desperate animal.

"Quit staring at me like that," he snarled. "If you had just cooperated in the beginning, none of this would have happened."

"I'm not staring," Junko said. She wanted to say more, but bit back her anger. Arguing with him was pointless at this point. He was going to believe this situation was everybody's fault but his and nothing she said would change that. It would just make him mad. "Look, Aki, this whole thing can end right now. It's not too late."

Akinori snorted. "Yeah, the police and your folks are going to stop chasing me just like that."

"I can get them to stop," Junko argued.

"And then what does that leave me?" Akinori argued. "I'm still marked for life. I'm destined to be an outcast, shunned by everybody because I didn't submit and do what I'm told like a good little Japanese citizen, like everybody feeds you for your whole life." The youth glared ahead, eyes blazing. "And you go back to your cozy little life, a life that excludes me? How do I benefit from that?"

"Do you think you'll get what you want this way?"

"I've got a better shot this way," Akinori responded. "Probably my only shot."

"Aki," Junko began.

"SHUT UP! JUST SHUT UP! Stop trying to talk me out of this! We're doing this MY WAY, damn it!"

With that, the engine began to sputter. The car slowed. Akinori and Junko both looked to the dash board curiously and immediately saw the problem. The fuel gauge indicator was on empty. In his mad dash for freedom, or in his paranoia about stopping and being seen and apprehended, Akinori hadn't stopped for gas. Looking around desperately, Akinori spotted a patch of wild grass at the foot of a cluster of trees that hadn't yet succumbed to development or agrarian use. He jerked the car right of center and across the on-coming lane into the small glen. The car came to a stop.

Junko thought to bolt from the car. Her hand went up to open the door latch, but Akinori's gun came up first.

"Just stay there," he warned.

Akinori extricated himself from the driver's seat. He got out and circled around the dead car to Junko's side, all the while keeping the pistol trained on her. Junko's body ached to move, to try to escape. But she knew she didn't dare. Not yet. The car door opened from the outside. Akinori reached in and pulled Junko out.

"Now what?" she asked, her fatigue making her tone brittle and accusatory.

"We start walking," bristled Akinori. Junko looked at him in disbelief. "Through that thicket!"

"Do you even know where you're running to?" Junko exclaimed.

"We'll find a farm house," Akinori explained. "Maybe we can find a car there. Or some fuel. If not, we'll just keep going."

"Boy, you really planned this out, didn't you?" Junko sneered. Akinori responded with the back of his hand.

"I warned you about that tone!" bellowed Akinori.

That was the last straw. Junko lunged at the teen. Catching him by surprise, she gouged and raked at his face with her nails. Akinori doubled over out of self-protection. That's when Junko lashed out with her foot. Her kick delivered enough force to send Akinori stumbling backwards. The youth lost his footing and fell backwards onto the ground.

And Junko began running. Her lone thought was to put as much distance as she could between her and Akinori. Her legs pumped like pistons, her feet slapping the ground and then the pavement on the road. She urged her body on, faster and faster. If she could just get enough distance between them, she might be able to hide from him until she found help or another means of escape.

"GET BACK HERE!" Junko heard him roar.

The slap of leather on the pavement told her he was pursuing her. Junko struggled to squeeze a little more speed out of her body. But she wasn't an athlete. She was just a normal girl in an abnormal situation. Straining to keep going, fearful even to look back to see how far back Akinori was, Junko pressed on. And then she recalled the memories of watching Haruka run. Of how fast Haruka was, how fluid and graceful she was and yet how powerful she was when she ran. Junko focused on that image of Haruka running, running like the wind itself, and she tried to make her body mimic Haruka. If only she could do it.

A hand came down on her shoulder. Junko tried to pull away, but the fingers dug into her flesh. The hand pulled on her and the girl lost her balance, tumbling onto the shoulder of the road. Junko didn't have to turn around to know it was Akinori. She began swinging wildly, hoping to connect, hoping to knock the weight off of her hip that was pinning her down. If she could do that, she could try to run again, maybe get away. She had to try. Giving in was giving herself over to her very doom, she could feel that in her bones. But a fist slammed into her face and drained enough of the fight out of her that Akinori could pin her shoulders down and straddle her. Then the gun came back into play. Junko stared down the barrel of the automatic. Beyond it were Akinori's eyes, eyes filled with a firestorm of rage.

"DO WHAT I TELL YOU!" bellowed Akinori. "I WILL KILL YOU IF YOU DON'T! I SWEAR I WILL!"

Junko wondered what to do now, because every alternative she saw seemed to lead to something she knew she wouldn't like.

* * *

Hojo Fuijitsu walked out of the little kitchen in the apartment and sat down at the table. His partner, Takashi Iwamura, was listening to the news channel on the television of the sparsely furnished room. Fuijitsu sat down next to Iwamura and took a bite of his breakfast.

"How's the kid doing?" he asked between bites, glancing over at Akiko. The child was still huddled in the corner and looked miserable.

"Hasn't given me any trouble," Iwamura shrugged, trying to concentrate on the news. "Be glad when we're rid of her."

"Weren't you thinking just yesterday about keeping her so we could put the hex on Sailor Jupiter permanently? What wised you up?"

"I never took care of a kid before," Iwamura grumbled. "Besides, it's been too long. There's nothing on the news about Ishikawa. What's taking so long? He shouldn't be that hard to find for a Sailor Senshi."

"Maybe the news hasn't gotten to the story yet," Fuijitsu suggested.

"I've watched the whole thing through once," Iwamura countered. "And I watched TV Asahi. There's nothing."

Fuijitsu frowned. He put his plate down on an end table. Then his cell phone came out of his pocket.

"Maybe I need to do a little more prodding," Fuijitsu murmured, punching in the number for Makoto's cell phone. Then he glanced at his partner. "How do you think she'll react to the kid screaming once or twice?"

Without warning, the front door to the apartment exploded inward, blown off of its hinges by a titanic force. The two thugs and their little captive all turned to the sound, Iwamura drawing a pistol from his waistband. Stepping into the apartment at a deliberate pace was Sailor Jupiter. A blue-white aura of electricity emanated from the tall, lanky woman with the green skirt and green and white tunic. She looked around once, then spotted the two criminals crouched in front of the sofa.

Then she started forward. The floor sizzled with each footstep.

Concluded in Chapter 12


	12. Once Broken

BEHIND THE MASK

Chapter 12: "Once Broken"

A Sailor Moon fanfic

By Bill K.

"It's her!" Hojo Fuijitsu gasped in shock and alarm as Sailor Jupiter stepped over their broken front door and stalked into the room. The fact that she had managed to track them down was scary enough. But that paled in comparison to the ominous electrical field her body was generating, a field that seemed to light up the room and cast weird shadows in all directions.

And even that paled next to the look of utter naked fury on her face.

Fuijitsu's partner, Takashi Iwamura, spat out an expletive as he brought up his gun to shoot at the advancing senshi. But even as he did so, the power phrase "Sparkling Wide Pressure" rang out in the tiny apartment. A ball of electricity leaped for the barrel of the gun and snapped at Iwamura's hand. He flinched back, the gun flying from his grip and sailing over the sofa to the floor nearby. Iwamura glanced at it to see how far away it was, as he knew it was his only means of defense now. The gun crackled with electricity. Parts of it were melted and deformed.

Instantly Fuijitsu began scrabbling along the floor, panic-stricken and desperate to escape. Iwamura, though, pushed to his feet and charged Jupiter. That was the way "Taki" Iwamura operated. All his life he'd met every challenge head on. If he lost, at least he tried his best. As he charged, he noticed the rage in Jupiter's eyes seem to rachet up. He understood why. They'd taken her little girl. But just because he understood her anger, and just because she was a woman, it didn't mean he was going to go easy on her. Iwamura came up hard and fast, his speed belying his size, his fist seeking her face.

Hands seized his arm in a grip of iron and twisted. That deflected his swing and threw Iwamura off balance. In that position, he was a sitting duck for Jupiter's knee, delivered with all the force her rage could generate right into his ribs and sternum. The air shot from his right lung and pain covered his body in an instant. Maintaining control of his right arm, Jupiter lashed out with her right foot and swept across Iwamura's ankles. This threw him further off balance and allowed Jupiter to slam the thug face first into the floor. The man lay awkwardly, stunned and awash in a sea of pain.

Jupiter whirled in search of the other kidnapper. She found him at the window of the apartment, trying to climb out onto a decorative wrought iron terrace in his blind rush to escape.

"Supreme Thunder!" she raged, bellowing to the heavens.

Lightning coursed through her body and then leaped at Fuijitsu like a belligerent predator. It struck Fuijitsu and every part of his body seemed to shut down for a second. When his mind kick-started again, he was laying on the floor, quivering involuntarily. His muscles were jelly. His mind was blurred and confused. He wasn't aware of anything, not even his own name. All he knew was that everything he could feel was surrounded by a thick red coating of pain - - and that his pants were wet. A shadow passed into his clouded vision. Fuijitsu tried to focus and found it was Sailor Jupiter. Her hands locked onto his shirt and she dragged him upright.

"You threatened my daughter!" Jupiter snarled, her rage unquenched. "You used her to try to get to me!"

"I . . ." Fuijitsu tried to speak, but his mouth wouldn't work.

"YOU THREATENED MY DAUGHTER!" Jupiter bellowed and began shaking him. Waves of disorientation flooded over Fuijitsu and he felt the urge to vomit.

"I . . .uh . . ." he babbled weakly, searching for anything that would end the assault on him. "S-sorry . . ."

"SORRY?" Jupiter raged. "SUPREME THUNDER!"

And Fuijitsu's vision went, covered by jagged patters of blue and black and yellow. His body shook and a hundred thousand needles all jammed into his brain at once. A strangled gasp of agony emerged from him. All he knew was pain and it was a full twenty seconds after the assault ended before he realized it was over.

"TELL ME AGAIN HOW SORRY YOU ARE, YOU ANIMAL!" Jupiter screamed. "WHAT MAKES YOU THINK SORRY MAKES EVERYTHING DIFFERENT!"

"No more . . ." the lump of humanity in her hands whimpered weakly. And Jupiter was about to give him another blast, just because he'd asked her not to.

But then a hand closed onto her shoulder. Jupiter's head snapped around to see who it was, and found Sailor Moon behind her. Mars was behind them both. Jupiter glared at Sailor Moon, daring the woman to criticize her actions.

"Jupiter," Sailor Moon only said, her voice kind and soft and without judgment, "Akiko needs you."

And the anger seemed to drain away. Jupiter let the quivering form of Fuijitsu slide from her hands and moved over to her little girl, bound and gagged, watching her mother wide-eyed from where she was trundled over in a corner of the room. The senshi knelt down and undid the tape holding her daughter's wrists. When they were free, Akiko's arms came up and caught her mother around the neck. Jupiter enveloped little Akiko in her arms and clutched her tight.

"Mommy's here," Jupiter sobbed, pressing her child to her. "I'm sorry I'm so late. Please forgive me."

A pudgy hand pulled the tape away from a small mouth.

"WOW, MOMMY, YOU WERE COOL!" the child exclaimed. Surprised, Jupiter pulled back and stared at her daughter. Akiko gave her mother a reassuring smile. "I knew you'd find me. And I knew they didn't stand a chance against you."

Overcome with emotion, Jupiter squeezed Akiko to her. Mars and Sailor Moon glanced at each other and smiled. They both heard Jupiter sobbing as she hugged little Akiko. In a way, the child's reaction had caught them by surprise, too. And, in a way, it hadn't.

"That's so sweet," cooed Sailor Moon.

"Yeah," Mars grinned. Then she sobered. "But we've still got to deal with these two."

"Haven't they suffered enough?"

"That's not the question," Mars explained. "They still know Jupiter's identity. Nobody in her family is safe as long as they do."

"Well, maybe they won't tell," Sailor Moon suggested. "Jupiter's certainly scared them enough."

"We can't depend on that," Mars shook her head.

"Mars, you're not thinking . . ." Sailor Moon gasped.

"No, I'm not thinking THAT!" the raven-tressed senshi snapped. She produced a pair of wards. "But if you'll lend me your power, I think I can remedy the situation."

"All right," Sailor Moon replied curiously. She took on a silvery glow and then grasped Mars' hand

Instantly Mars stiffened as the massive power flowed into her. With supreme effort, she brought the wards to her forehead and softly recited a chant. The wards took on an orange glow, as if they were on fire. Kneeling down to Fuijitsu, Mars placed the ward on his forehead. The man seemed to sag under its weight. She repeated the process with Iwamura.

"So what does that do?" Jupiter asked. She carried Akiko in her arms, the child braced against her.

"It's a sutra for banishing bad memories," Mars told them. "I sort of adapted it for this situation. Of course, I'm not a strong enough priest to make it work the way we need it to work, so that's why I needed your energy, Sailor Moon."

"And they won't know Mako-chan is Sailor Jupiter?" Sailor Moon asked.

"It's not that precise," Mars admitted. "They probably won't remember anything that's happened for the last five years." Sailor Moon gasped.

"If it means my family is safe from them, it's all right with me," Jupiter replied. She cradled Akiko. "Come on, Kiddo. Let's go home. Your daddy and your brother miss you."

* * *

On a berm next to a country road, a male figure straddled a female figure, pinning her down to the dirt and rocks of the roadside. Junko stared down the barrel of the automatic. Beyond it were Akinori's eyes, eyes filled with a firestorm of rage.

"DO WHAT I TELL YOU!" bellowed Akinori. "I WILL KILL YOU IF YOU DON'T! I SWEAR I WILL!"

"Deep Submerge!" a woman called out like a clarion.

Instantly Akinori found himself engulfed in a wave of water. The surging wave carried him off of Junko and washed him down to the edge of a wooden fence. He took a moment to battle the disorientation and regain his breath. His hand felt around for the automatic and found it. As his vision cleared, the youth brought the gun up to use against his attackers. He found Sailor Uranus standing next to Junko, glaring at him.

"You back away from me!" Akinori yelled.

"Put that down," Uranus told him. Her eyes were narrowed and her gaze could cut steel.

"I'LL USE IT!" he bellowed.

"Put it down or I'll slice it to ribbons," Uranus replied, her Space Sword materializing in her hand. "And I won't be responsible if you get cut in the process." Still the gun pointed at Uranus.

"Aki, put it down!" howled Junko. "It's over! Don't make a bad situation worse!"

"Why?" Aki asked. He was riddled with anguish and defeat. "What do I have now? Disgrace? Prison? A lifetime without friends?" The gun turned and lazily pointed at his own temple. "A lifetime without you?"

"You made your bed," Uranus said unsympathetically.

"If you'd just done what I wanted!" Akinori wailed at Junko. She stared at him wide-eyed in disbelief. "It's all because of you!"

"Yeah, nothing's ever your fault, is it!" shouted Uranus. "Do it! Do it and save everybody the trouble of dealing with you! Or is this another one of your acts to get sympathy? Everything in your life revolves around you and everything you do is calculated to get your way! You don't know how to love anybody but yourself! Do it and do the world a favor!"

Akinori's face twisted in emotional rage. The gun swung from his temple toward Uranus.

"Space Sword Blaster!" Uranus shouted, bringing the sword into play. Energy arcs shot out from the blade and impacted with the pistol, slicing the weapon in two. Akinori stared at the pistol, of which he was now holding only the grip, the trigger and part of the hammer assembly, in disbelief. Indifferently, Uranus approached the youth, her body language communicating that she no longer considered him a threat. She allowed the Space Sword to fade away.

"This is," he mumbled. "It wasn't supposed to be this way."

"Life never is," scowled Uranus.

Akinori just stared down at the severed gun for a few moments. Dismissing him, Uranus turned to go back to Junko. Without warning, the young man galvanized into action. He was on his feet in moments and charging Uranus. Neptune crouched to launch an attack. Junko pointed and was about to shout.

But Uranus heard his approach. Wheeling, her foot connected with the side of Akinori's head in a spinning roundhouse kick. The young man dropped back to the ground on the berm like a sack of flour. He didn't move.

"I'll call the police," Neptune said, producing a cell phone. Uranus nodded and walked over to Junko. Junko's head was bowed, as if she were embarrassed by everything.

"You OK?" Uranus inquired.

"Yeah, Haruka, I'm fine," she muttered.

Then Junko felt her eyes widen and her cheeks flush. She'd called Uranus by her civilian name. The girl didn't look up, terrified of what expression she'd find on the senshi's face. But Uranus said nothing. In the distance police sirens could be heard, so someone had already summoned them. And Junko found herself silently praying that Uranus somehow hadn't heard her slip.

* * *

It was late afternoon at the Ikegami household. Makoto was in the kitchen, preparing dinner. It felt good. It was something normal and after the past few days she desperately needed something normal. And she desperately wanted to bring her family life back to normal for Akiko's sake - - although from the carrying on in the other room, the child seemed to be taking things better than the parent. Ami sat at the kitchen table to keep Makoto company.

"And you should have seen her, Daddy!" Akiko exclaimed. She was the center of attention in the living room, holding her audience of her father and her brother Ichiro rapt with her recounting of her rescue. "Mommy busts in the door - - WHAM! And then she goes 'how dare you be mean to this poor little girl! You're going to be punished!'"

"She did?" Sanjuro asked, trying to sift fact from four year old fancy as he listened.

"And then she went 'ZZZZZT' and the bad guy went down!" Akiko continued. "And then she went 'HAH HE HI-YAH' and the other bad guy went down! She was cool, Daddy!"

"I've always said so," Sanjuro said, hoisting his daughter up on his lap. Ichiro just stared at her in utter amazement.

"Would you listen to her," Makoto grinned to Ami. "She hasn't stopped chattering about that since we got her out of there."

"I think you've impressed her," Ami judged.

"And I thought she'd be frightened by seeing me zap those guys." Makoto braced herself against the counter top. "Ames, you don't suppose this is going to traumatize her, do you? She's all bright and upbeat now, but - - am I going to start hearing her crying in the middle of the night from some nightmare?"

"It's difficult to say for certain," Ami frowned. "She seems to be coping quite well. Many times young children have no real concept of danger. They can think of a large toy as a threat, but not the burner on a stove. While she was probably scared and uncertain, she may not have realized that she was in a life-threatening situation and that would reduce any post-traumatic stress she might experience. Of course any negative experience can have long term effects on a young child. Perhaps she'll come to associate some person or place with the mistreatment she suffered. But the fact that you rescued her helps reinforce her natural dependence and expectation of equating security with the parent. Unless something happened during her captivity that we don't know about, she looks like she's adapting well."

"If I find out they did anything to her . . ." Makoto began angrily. Ami touched her shoulder.

"Perhaps it would be best not to dwell on that unless it's necessary," Ami suggested. After a moment, Ami's view won out and Makoto nodded.

"Sounds like you had quite a time," Sanjuro said, holding Akiko in his lap. "Do you know why you were in that situation to start with?"

Akiko clouded over. "Because I told Mommy's secret." She looked up at her father and at that moment Sanjuro couldn't ever recall seeing that much earnest conviction in his daughter's face. "I'm really sorry, Daddy. And I'll never tell again, ever! I swear!"

"Sounds like you learned a lesson," Sanjuro said and he stroked her hair. Akiko nodded. Then, suddenly, she leaned over to Ichiro and tapped him on top of his head with her finger.

"And don't you tell anyone about Mommy's secret either, Ichiro," Akiko said firmly. "That's a secret and you don't tell other people's secrets. You got it?"

"Nee-Chan!" Ichiro giggled.

"Everybody ready for dinner?" Makoto asked, popping into the living room. She turned to Akiko. "I know you're probably hungry just from telling that story a hundred times." Akiko raced into the kitchen, followed by Sanjuro, holding Ichiro in his arms. "You're staying, of course," she said to Ami.

"Are you asking or demanding?" Ami asked wryly.

"Oh boy, I can't wait to tell everybody at school what happened!" Akiko exclaimed. She had already climbed up on her chair and perched atop the two books that got her level with the table.

"Akiko," Sanjuro said. The young girl turned inquiringly to her father. "Secret."

"THAT PART TOO?" Akiko gasped incredulously. Sanjuro nodded patiently. The child's spirits fell. "OK, Daddy," she moaned.

"You mean," Makoto asked nervously, "you want to go back?"

"Well why not?" Akiko inquired in confusion.

"Well," Makoto stammered, "after what happened . . ."

"Mommy, all my friends are there!" Akiko howled. "I gotta go back!"

"But what if something happens?" Makoto persisted.

"You'll protect me," Akiko replied with the conviction of an innocent. "You're Sailor Jup'ter, remember?"

Ami noticed the emotion welling in her friend's throat.

* * *

On a public street headed for one of Tokyo's many train stations, Junko Tenoh and her friend Aiko Kurumi walked and talked. It wasn't much of a conversation. Junko seemed a little down and, given the news that had traveled all around school about her and Akinori the previous day, Aiko could understand why. She'd judiciously avoided all mention of the subject, even though she was dying for details, out of respect for her friend's feelings. When Junko felt up to talking about it would be the appropriate time to sate her curiosity. Being there for support was what she needed and was what she'd get.

As they walked, both girls noticed a blue Fiat slow down next to them. When Junko stopped to peer in, the tinted window nearest them rolled down.

"Hey, little girl," Haruka called out to them from the car. "Want a ride home?"

And Junko hesitated. Aiko noticed it immediately and thought it strange, because she knew this was Junko's older sister.

"I've got candy," Haruka added with a sly grin. That did it. Junko's mouth turned up into a cynical smirk. She said her good-byes to Aiko and got in the car.

"You think you're funny, but you're really not," Junko told her sister as they drove off.

"Who said I was being funny? There's candy in the glove box. How else am I going to lure innocent young girls into the car?" Haruka quipped. She received an elbow shot from Junko. "So how are you holding up after yesterday?"

"I'll be all right," Junko sobered. "It already seems like a bad dream. Dad's the one I'm worried about. He's pretty bruised up. And all this, on top of his heart condition, has really got him depressed. He feels like he's a useless old man."

"Hmm," Haruka frowned. "Wish I knew what to say. Advice from me would probably be the last thing you'd need where Mom and Dad are concerned. I guess you'll just have to dote on him a little more." Haruka executed a right hand turn. "You're sure you're all right?"

"Physically, I'll heal," Junko told her. "But I'm wondering - - the next time a boy asks me out, am I going to see Aki and get scared? I mean, I thought he was the one, you know? And then he seemed to change overnight. How will I know the next guy won't act the same way?"

"There's always girls," Haruka said.

"Not happening, Haruka," Junko responded.

"Well, I guess you're just going to have to see past your hormones and look for the warning signs," Haruka advised. "You can spot them with experience: over-dependence, possessiveness, unreasonable jealousy. I spotted those in the guy right off, while all you saw was how gorgeous he was. You have to look at people with a critical eye and see what's there, not what you want to see." She glanced over with a grin. "And sometimes they'll still fool you."

"Nice," Junko sighed.

The pair drove on for a bit.

"So how long have you known?" Haruka asked out of the blue. Junko's heart froze.

"Known what?" she replied, willing her voice to calm. The Fiat immediately pulled into a parking lot and the engine stopped.

"Don't play games," Haruka scowled. "You called me 'Haruka' when I was Sailor Uranus yesterday." Junko's anxiety level shot through the roof. Haruka sensed it. "I'm not mad at you. I'm just curious."

Junko's head flopped back onto the headrest. "Since Kaioh-San was in the hospital. She was delirious and spilled. Nobody heard it but me."

"Why didn't you tell me you knew?" Haruka asked neutrally, so neutrally that Junko couldn't get a read on her sister's feelings.

"I figured," Junko began uneasily, "that if you wanted me to know, you'd tell me. And I didn't want to burden you with knowing I knew. You have so many other responsibilities."

The teen peeked nervously over at her older sister. She found that Haruka seemed to be amused.

"What?" Junko asked.

"It's amazing how alike we are sometimes," Haruka chuckled. "I thought about telling you from the beginning, but I didn't want to burden you. You're seventeen and you've got a lot of stuff going on in your life that's more important."

"Wow. Spooky," Junko said. The Fiat started up and pulled out of the convenience store lot. "So - - what's it like? Being a senshi, I mean."

"It's a lot of responsibility," Haruka explained. "You're given this power and you're supposed to use it to help people and protect Sailor Moon. And they didn't ask you whether you wanted it, whoever 'they' are. It's like 'Here's a weird power, go protect everyone.' Sometimes you don't know how. Sometimes you're tempted to do something - - that isn't right. And sometimes you can only hope you've done the right thing and you won't know for sure until it's too late to change things. I've messed up a few times. All I can do is keep trying and not make the same mistake twice." She glanced at her sister. "Sort of like you and your love life. All you can do is keep trying and not make the same mistake twice."

The Fiat pulled up in front of the Tenoh home. Junko got out, then leaned back in through the window.

"Thanks for the ride," she said. "And the talk. And the trust. And Haruka: Now that I've met Sailor Uranus in person," and she grinned mischievously, "she's way cooler than you are."

"Fine," Haruka replied. "Next time ask her to take you car shopping."

Junko wrinkled her nose and was off. Haruka watched her until she was safely inside the house and then drove away.

"I wonder how Michiru's going to react when I tell her she talks in her sleep," Haruka wondered with a devilish smirk.

* * *

In a little eatery in the midst of the Azabu-Juuban retail district, Usagi Chiba was having lunch with her father. She was taking a break from meeting with her editor, while he was taking a break from pursuing news to photograph.

"Thanks for meeting with me, Princess," Kenji said as he watched his daughter attack her meal as if she'd never seen food before. It was a familiar touchstone in his life. "I can never see too much of my darling girl."

"I just wanted to see how you were doing," Usagi remarked between bites. "I saw your photos of Sailor Moon in the paper. They were really good."

"Yes, they did come out well," Kenji nodded. "It was a good thing I was using high speed film. Getting that mysterious tip was a lucky break. But I can't depend on running into Sailor Moon once a month."

"It could happen," Usagi replied.

"Always the optimist," Kenji smiled. "Well I'm more realistic about my chances. I'm not going to depend on getting exclusive shots of her. Besides, I'm more convinced than ever that this isn't the life for me."

"But Daddy, you're a good photographer!" Usagi protested.

"But this isn't what I want to do for the rest of my life," Kenji argued. He could see his daughter still couldn't understand. "It's like this, Princess: you're a manga artist, and a good one. And you love doing it. But what if you lost your job as a manga artist and you had to support yourself sketching crime scenes for the police?"

"Blegh," Usagi scowled. "I'd rather quit and be a full time housewife for Mamo-Chan."

"Well I feel the same way. I want to create with my photo skills, not intrude into other people's tragedy." He smiled ruefully. "Unfortunately, I can't quit and be a full time housewife. I've got a wonderful woman to support."

"Daddy, Mamo-Chan and I can help you out with that."

"No, you keep your money," Kenji replied. "Put it in the bank for college for that grandchild of mine you two will eventually have. I can make a go of this until I find something else. This recession can't last forever."

"Well, OK," Usagi frowned. "But I think you're being stubborn. We really want to help you and Mom out."

Kenji reached over and grasped Usagi's hand. "Princess, this is just a temporary set back. I'll come out of it ahead. And even if I'm stuck doing this for longer than I hope, I'm still a very lucky man. I'm married to the woman of my dreams. I've got a wonderful daughter and a wonderful son. I've had a chance to give the world some joy with my old job. I've already had more than most people ever dream of getting. I can endure this. Just as long as you and your mother and Shingo are still in my life, this set back is nothing."

The waiter came with the bill. Kenji reached for it, but Usagi struck with the speed of a cobra.

"Ah, ah!" she said proudly. "This treat's on me. I can afford it more than you can."

"All right, Princess," Kenji grinned. "And thank you."

Usagi nodded and dug into her purse for her wallet. Pulling it out, she opened it - - and then gaped.

"Wait a minute!" she gasped. "I know I had eight thousand yen in . . .!" Then her eyes bulged. "Oh yeah," she squeaked. "The new shoes yesterday."

Kenji smiled at the familiarity of the scene. "I think they take credit cards here."

"Mamo-Chan won't let me have them," Usagi whimpered.

"Here," Kenji told the waiter, handing him some money. "Keep the rest for yourself."

"Thank you, Sir," the waiter nodded gratefully.

"I will pay you back, Daddy! I swear!" Usagi exclaimed.

"Princess," Kenji replied, basking in the glow he felt whenever he was with his children, "you already have."

THE END


End file.
